


The Force Works In Mysterious Ways

by Bryn_Delgado



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Ahsoka Tano is a Good Sister, Anakin Skywalker is a Good Brother, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brotherly Love, CC-2224 Is A Good Brother, CC-2224 | Cody Needs a Hug, Clone Wars, Clones deserved better, F/M, Family Feels, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Shenanigans, Found Family, Gen, How Do I Tag, Jedi Culture, Kaminoans Being Assholes (Star Wars), Not Beta Read, Obi-Dad Kenobi, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective CC-2224 | Cody, Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi, Protective clones, Tags May Change, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel Fix-It, Tiny clones, do not copy to another site, they all do, touch-starved clones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 49,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25960699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bryn_Delgado/pseuds/Bryn_Delgado
Summary: Ben Kenobi had lived a long live. He had known love and joy, sadness and loss. He had survived the genocide of his people. Fought the man whom he loved like a brother, despite feeling his heart break. He watched helplessly as the Galaxy fell into the hands of the Sith, as the few who dared to object disappeared. He made peace with this and with himself. It was a good live. Now, having cognized the Force at the highest level, he could guide young Luke Skywalker as a spirit.CC-2224's life was harsh and tough. Not everyone can handle such rhythm, but CC-2224 had no other choice. He was born to serve the Republic and then the Empire. He did so dutifully even though he disagreed with Empire's methods and policy. He watched the legacy of his template die, an era of terror and fear take over the Galaxy. Chaos engulfed all living things. But finally, his time has come. His brothers were waiting for him. He can finally rest.But the Force, it seemed, had other plans.
Relationships: 212th Attack Battalion & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Bail Organa, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 230
Kudos: 924





	1. One – The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Disclamer: I do not own any rights on Star Wars' characters, the universe, names, and so on and I'm not trying to make money. 
> 
> Frankly, I should be working on my other fic but I'm kinda stuck. There's just that little moment I don't like but at the same time have no idea how to fix.
> 
> So I tried to distract myself in hope that I could come up with a different scenario. I was re-watching some films and accidentally stumbled upon a moment from the Attack of the Clones where Obi-Wan finds Kamino. And that scene with little clones training with some kind of computers went straight into my heart. They are so cute! And my mind immediately came up with a picture of Obi-Wan surrounded by a dozen of little clones who are hugging the life out of him hissing at anyone who tries to come close. And I just… couldn't stop myself.
> 
> So here my fic about tiny clone who got flung back into time. How many of them remember? Who else knows that something is wrong? What will they do? Will they be able to change the history for the better or only make things worse? After all, the Force's will is unpredictable...

Ben threw one last look at his young student before he closed his eyes, a brief smile touched his lips. He did not see bright red lightsaber cut the place where he was just a moment ago in half, did not feel the heat of it burn his skin as he became one with the Force.

For a few moments he felt warmth and peace, the Force embraced him loving and welcoming, like a parent meeting their child after a long separation. Ben let it seep into him, through him, making him lighter than he felt in many years. Too many, if one was to ask. Ben discarded that thought, it was not important before and surely was not important now.

But then, something changed. The Force sparkled around (inside?) him with sadness and sympathy. Ben was a little confused and, he might admit it, curious. All his life he was told that when one joined the Force it was like entering the endless ocean of tranquility and harmony, their consciousness fading merging with thousands of others. But well, it wasn’t like any living being could have known for sure. Jedi or not. And his own lineage had a few things to say about fading into the Force. Ben chuckled, earning himself an amused twirl from the Force.

The Force tugged him lightly, pulling him dipper within itself. Ben relaxed, letting his memories play before his eyes (after a gentle prompt from the Force.) He watched wistfully, his smile small and fond as he saw his friends once again. Bant Eerin, Garen Muln, Quinlan Vos, Siri Tachi, Luminara Undil, Feemor Igey… Master Qui-Gon and Master Tahl… Satine Kryze… Master Windu and Master Plo Koon…

Ben smiled upon seeing the bright and energetic face of his former Padawan Anakin Skywalker. Although their meeting and Anakin’s subsequent apprenticeship happened because of a tragedy, Ben did not regret it even after Anakin’s Fall. Ben knew he was not perfect, far from it, no matter that Anakin might have thought, he had his flaws and failings, he had made mistakes as a mentor and as a Jedi both. He had made peace with them during his years on Tatooine. And he was certain that Anakin would find his way back to the Light. Eventually. His Padawan was nothing but stubborn, the trait that was surely inherent by his whole lineage. Young Luke was much like his father. Ben would do everything within his power to help Luke on his path.

But he got distracted. Ben turned his attention back to the memories. Oh. He recognized that moment. Ben chuckled, watching his Commander scold a couple of shinies. It was one of the rare moments between battles when they could relax, placing their weapons down. The memories enrolled, slowly and yet as if in a blink of an eye coming to the end of the war. Utapau. Ben remembered his confusion, pain and devastation when his men turned their weapons on him.

He still did not know why they chose to betray them, to believe the lie that the Order wanted to destroy the Republic. It still stung a little when he thought about it on Tatooine but at the same time he could not blame them. They must have been deceived or fooled, like the whole Republic have been. And Ben, not for the first time, could admit that the Order was at fault here too. Not only they did not notice the Sith under their own noses, they also forgot about the true purpose of the Order. The Jedi distanced themselves away from the very people whom they were supposed to help and protect. They became unapproachable, cold, emotionless creatures who parents used to frighten their naughty children.

(With great sadness, Ben recalled all those times, when mothers clutched their children to their chests, refusing to let them ‘be turned into flesh droids’ while fathers tried to scare the Seekers away with weapons.)

And their troopers, oh, the Order failed them greatly. Those brilliant men, who shone so brightly in the Force, looked at the world with such curiosity and wonder, they were so unique, despite the insistence that they were just clones, therefore absolutely identical. They were bred for war; they knew nothing else and were ready to die for Republicans who did not even regard them as people and looked at them with disdain and disgust. They were _proud_ to do so…

Remembering the few facts he knew about the clones’ _true_ training and upbringing, Ben felt his anger and anguish spike. They did not deserve it. No one did.

The Force soothed Ben, offering him a little comfort. His men… Ben loved them all, the 212th became his second family in a very short time. (He had a suspicion that Master Plo Koon would agree with him, given some of his interactions with the Wolfpack.) It was one of the reasons why he was not able to blame them for turning on him. And also, why it had hurt so much.

Ben’s memories halted, ending in a flash or red light. The Force tingled, curled around him in anticipation. What was it waiting for? Was it time already to help Luke? Surely Master Yoda was yet to run him into the ground? The Force hummed negative, confusing Ben. Everything around him faded, leaving him floating in the Force. He was sinking deeper and deeper, his thoughts disappearing, his mind pleasantly empty. The Force caressed him one more time and then let go.

Ben fell.

…

…

…

He opened his eyes. It took him a moment to figure out what woke him up. Ben turned his head to the side, searching for the source of the sound. His gaze landed on a young man in Jedi robes. He had a Padawan haircut, his braid was slung over his shoulder.

“Master? Are you alright?” Ben’s young (very young!) Padawan Anakin Skywalker, who looked no older than fourteen asked him in concern. Ben could only stare. What the kriff was happening?

***

CC-2224 gripped his blaster tight, as he watched Lord Vader face the traitor. Blue blade met red, but CC-2224 did not let himself get distracted. He knew exactly what the traitor was capable of. He, after all, served under his command for years. It was unwise to underestimate him, even though he was old. It made him even more dangerous and unpredictable. CC-2224 watched the duel, ready to leap in to protect Lord Vader if needed. Then, the traitor glanced to the side, held his lightsaber vertically, bowed a little, a small smile danced in the corner of his lips, closed his eyes and disappeared (distantly, Cody screamed in anguish in the back of CC-2224’s mind) leaving only a pile of robes on the floor.

A scream from one of the intruders caught CC-2224’s and the troopers’ attention. It was time to get back to his duties. CC-2224 shot at the young man, the other troopers followed his lead. The young man and his friends started shooting back. One lucky shot caught CC-2224 by surprise. He fell on his back; his breath became labored. He knew no one would think about healing him, he was expendable like all troopers were. CC-2224 closed his eyes and welcomed the soothing embrace of death.

…

…

…

He woke up with a start at the sound of voices. His eyes shot open and he was greeted by the sight he thought he would never see again. A familiar face looked down at him, brows furrowed. He stared right back, barely daring to breathe. “CC-2224? Get up, _vod_ , we’re gonna be late.” The boy, who CC-2224 pretty sure was his _vod_ , said with a frown. He nodded, too shocked to talk. The boy nodded and turned around, quickly putting on his clothes. CC-2224 (no, _Cody_ , he was Cody and he refused to think about himself as a number, he has been answering to it for too long already) sat up on his bunk, surveying the room he was in with quick, efficient gaze. He saw twenty or so other clones getting dressed, some of whom looked vaguely familiar. Cody had not seen another _vod_ in almost twenty years and now, seeing so many and so young (Force! They looked even younger than shinies!) in one place was overwhelming. It looked like they were between four or five years old. But that was impossible, no one was commissioning clones anymore, so how Cody could be among a group so young?

Cody closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, habitually using the calming technique his General had taught him (gentle voice encouraged him, walking him through the steps) many years ago. It happened after a particularly devastating campaign, the General wanted to make sure that all troopers were alright and-

Cody’s mind came to a screeching halt as a horrible thought hit him worse than a missile. The General – he had ordered to kill his General. Why? Why did he do it? Cody frantically scrambled his memories for the answer. They had won the war, Grievous was dead, the General had killed him. Cody had returned his lightsaber, the General mounted his Boga and sped away and then…

He received a call. From the Chancellor himself, who ordered him to execute Order 66. And as soon as he uttered those words something in Cody’s mind switched, filling him with rage toward his General. How dare they? His brothers were dying, fighting for the Republic, and these traitors wanted to overthrow their government? He had watched gleefully as the traitor fell down the cliff towards his death.

But wait. How did he know what exactly Order 66 was? He did not remember it from the protocol list or the list of special commands. But as soon as the words left the Chancellor’s lips, he knew what he had to do. He knew that the Jedi were traitors and that he had to exterminate them on sight.

But Cody knew his General, he would even go so far to think that they were friends. Why all of the sudden he decided to believe the Chancellor’s words without any evidence, to turn on his General, on the man who treated him and his _vod’e_ like real people, who sacrificed everything for them and the Republic? How could he order to shoot an unsuspecting man in the back, without a trial, like a mindless butcher who did not care about justice and truth?

It was getting harder to breathe, was he dying again? No, no, **_no_** , he could not die now, he had to apologize to the General, he had to tell him he was sorry-

Except he could not do it. Lord Vader had _killed_ his General in front of Cody’s own eyes.

He was supposed to protect the General (Cody, please, call me Obi-Wan), he was born solely for that purpose!

_“Vod, snap out of it! What the kriff is wrong with you?”_

And now General Kenobi was dead. He had died fighting, like a true Mandalorian... 

_“-don’t know! He just started wheezing-”_

_“-have to do something before the longnecks noti-”_

A sharp slap across his face triggered Cody’s automatic reaction. His hand shot up, catching his attacker’s arm, and he threw himself at them. His body felt wrong (he was tiny too, little gods) but Cody didn’t let it stop him. He had his attacker on the floor face down, in less than twenty seconds.

“ _-d,_ _vod_ , calm down! It’s just us, come on!” A high-pitched voice called, breaking the haze in Cody’s mind. His head whipped around so he could stare at the boy who yelled at him. The boy’s eyes were open wide in alarm as he stared nervously at Cody.

“Alright, _vod_ , you are alright, now, let ‘04 go.” Another boy, no, _vod_ , ordered sternly. It was the same boy who woke him up. And now, looking closely at him, Cody realized that he knew him.

“Wolffe?” He whispered, not taking his eyes from his long (maybe not that long, how would you know? There was nothing about him on the records) dead batchmate. Wolffe frowned, taking a step closer.

“What? I’m CC-3636, you forgot? Did you hit your head, ‘24?” Cody gulped, shaking his head a little, jolting the boy under him and causing him to wince.

Cody jumped off the boy ( _vod_ ) like he was on fire, staring down at him. The boy rolled over to sit, rubbing his arm. The one that Cody yanked. Kriff. The boy looked up at Cody with a grimace. Sith hells, Cody knew him too. It was Gree. _Gree_ who was declared KIA not long after the battle of Utapau. And now he was sulking at Cody, sending him a glare.

“What’s gotten into you, _vod_? I was just trying to help!” Gree exclaimed, accepting a helping hand from yet another _vod_ (Neyo, Cody’s mind supplied helpfully) and standing up. Cody nodded, almost feeling the gears in his head whirling, trying to process what was happening. Was it some kind of afterlife? The _Vod’e_ had a belief that their dead brothers were waiting for them on the other side. But Cody couldn’t comprehend why their afterlife looked so much like Kamino’s standard dorm and why his brothers were so young. It did not make any sense! Wolffe did not even recognize his own name!

“Come on, _vod’e_. There is nothing here, go get ready.” Another clone commanded stepping through the boys, closer to Cody. Fox (Cody almost giggled hysterically. Almost) put his hand on Cody’s arm, steering him toward his bunk. The other clones grumbled among themselves but obeyed, returning to their usual routine.

Cody let Fox maneuver him onto the bunk. He sat down readily, his mind buzzing, searching for an explanation of the situation he was in. If that was the afterlife, why were they so young and on Kamino? It was the place they were born, but Cody could hardly call it their home. He would have guessed that he would wake up on _the_ _Negotiator_ after his death. Or on some less awful planet. Was not he supposed to be happy in the afterlife? (Why would you? You betrayed your General, your friend, you do not deser-)

Fox crossed his arms, glaring down at Cody. Cody stared right back, not knowing what else to do. Fox raised an eyebrow, waiting for something. “Well, we don’t have all rotation. Talk.” Fox barked in a grim tone. Cody suppressed the flinch, his face automatically going blank. He straightened up, raised his chin and calmly met Fox’s gaze. Fox wavered, blinking hard, his stance becoming unsure.

 _‘He is surprised.’_ Cody realized with a jolt. Fox looked determined to get some answers out of Cody, but the Commander could see right through him, had too much experience reading his brothers like a stack of flimsy. And Fox was unsure of what to do. He wanted to help Cody, that much was evident, but he did not know _how_. And he was unused to Cody’s ‘Commander’s face’. That conclusion made Cody look closer at his brother.

Fox who Cody knew was a tough soldier who believed the law to be most important. He served on Coruscant, protecting its inhabitants and the Senate. He always looked tired when they gathered together in some cantina. (Bly loved teasing him. He would always team up with Rex and they would try their best to piss him off. Fox always threatened to lock them up in a jail. Always.) He had a permanent scowl on his face that would send a lesser man running in fear. He was quick to deal with a threat and was very efficient in following the Senate’s orders. (Cody involuntarily recalled the incident with Ahsoka, General Skywalker’s Padawan and Fives’ death after that.) But he loved his brothers like any other _vod_ did, although he had some trouble showing it. Grim humor, rare smiles, sharp calculating eyes. That was his batchmate, his _vod_ and Cody loved him.

Fox who currently looked at Cody was yet to become that man. Far too young. Now, as Cody was actually looking, he made a guess that he was four. His features were yet to harden, he did not have most of his scars and had no tattoos. He did not seem confident like his older self was. Sure, he did have _some_ confidence, but it was not on the same level. (His stance and eyes were giving him away.) It almost seemed like he had yet to learn all his tricks. But how could that be?

Cody was lost. This place was strange. It was all too similar to his childhood on Kamino. Maybe he should look for his General? He was dead, surrounded by his equally dead _Vod'e_ , was it too bold to assume that General Kenobi was somewhere here too?

Fox’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Come on, ‘24, get ready. I don’t want to get reprimanded because you suddenly went crazy.” He grumbled with a sigh, walking away toward his own bunk. Cody could only gawk after him. But he stood up nonetheless, getting ready for the day. The process was automatic, (even with his old/new tiny four year old body. Force, why was he so small?) Cody did not need to think about his motions, leaving him free to ponder over his condition.

He made a mental list.

One. He was either having a very weird dream or _Be’vod’e_ afterlife was extremely strange.

Two. He had to lay low. If it was not a dream or an afterlife, then it was something else entirely. It was possibly very dangerous too. He needed to blend in and gather more information.

Three. He needed more allies. His batchmates did not indicate that they remembered him (the real him, not only CC-2224) but that did not mean anything. He had to act carefully, maybe there was someone who knew what was going on.

Four. He had to find his General. Or find out if he was here at all.

Satisfied, Cody nodded to himself, straightening his clothes. The fabric was rough and scratchy, making his skin itch but it was a familiar feeling, so he quickly stopped paying attention to it. He hurried toward the doors, taking his usual place in line next to Bly. If this place was indeed based on his childhood, Cody knew better than attracting the longnecks’ ire.

He would play along. He would figure this out. And he sure as hell would find his General. For now, Cody had to observe and take notes. He took a deep breath. He could do it. The pair in the head of the line (Wolffe and Grey) opened the doors, leading their group out of the room. Cody easily matched their pace, soothed by familiar marching. He could do it.

He did not have another option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you already know but if not, well, vod means brother or sister and vod’e - brothers or sisters. Be’vod’e - brothers’ (possessive prefix). I have no idea how long this fic will be, I’m just gonna let the Force guide me. If you have any questions – leave a comment and I'll answer. Stay safe, see you later)


	2. Two – Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben has a panic attack, Cody saves the day, and the Force laughs softly in the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support!  
> Hehehe. This one is a wreck. Enjoy)

Ben continued to watch the teen at the door in silence. Was it some kind of Force vision or one of his memories? The Force tingled, as if huffing at him. Ben decided to interpret it as a ‘no’.

So, not a vision and not a memory. Then what was that? A Force ghost? Well, that _was_ possible, but why would the Force recreate the Temple? Ghosts could exist without accommodation perfectly fine. And why would Anakin be so young?

While Ben was running through the possibilities, Anakin (how could it be Anakin, he should be older-) grew more worried. He closed the distance between them in three large steps and stopped right in front of Ben, who was sitting on his bed, staring.

“Obi-Wan, this is not funny. You are the one who always complains about frivolous use of the Force and now you are using it to mess with me?” Anakin (why was he calling him Obi-Wan? No one did that in a long time) said and Ben heard a hint of fear in his voice, mostly hidden by faux confidence and desperation. He immediately wanted to soothe the boy, offer some comfort. But something stopped him from reaching out, so he settled for a kind smile, trying to act normal. He was confused, yes. But it would be unwise to demand answers openly. Ben would be the first to admit that his social skills were somewhat rusty from all his years spent as a desert hermit. So he needed to be careful here.

“What makes you think that I am doing something?” Ben asked and had to suppress a full body flinch of surprise. His voice sounded different and his accent was wrong too.

Anakin (stop that, it was not him, no matter how much you want-) did not seem to notice his confusion and frowned deeper. “I can’t feel you!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands (his _flesh_ hands, oh kark) up and glaring at Ben.

Ben merely raised an eyebrow at him, which seemed to annoy him further. (Anakin always acted rashly when he was worried and he was definitely worried now, about you, just tell him-) The boy sent him a nasty glare, crossing his arms and turned his face away. Ben shook his head slightly. “Care to elaborate, oh Padawan mine?” The teasing words fell from his lips before he could stop himself. It was so easy to fall back into an easy banter between them. But it _was not_ the real Anakin. Ben’s throat went dry. It was not his Padawan, it was something else, he just needed to figure out what-

Anakin heaved a sigh and turned around to look at Ben. “It’s like you’re not even here.” He complained. “I know you’re here - I can see you, but I can’t feel you in the Force.” The teen sulked, giving Ben an accusing glare. “And I can’t feel anything through the bond.” He said, clearly sulking. “What did you do to your shields?” He calmed down a little, seeing that Ben was not hurt or in danger (just like the real Anaki-) and now he was curious, eager to unveil the mystery.

Ben frowned slightly. He checked his shields. Nothing was amiss, they were functioning perfectly well, the way he had usually built them on Tatooine-

Oh. That was the reason Anakin (not Anakin, he was _not_ -) could neither feel nor sense him. And now, out of habit, even before he was fully awake, Ben had built impenetrable shields that masked his Force signature, blocked all his bonds and hid his presence in general. He didn’t even need to think about it or make a special effort. They had to be like that, if he wanted to escape Vader’s notice, or Inquisitors’, or the Emperor’s Hands, or-

Stop. Breathe. Let go.

Anakin (projection, hallucination, illusion, not Anakin, no-) was getting restless again. He had never liked to be ignored. Ben shook the unwanted memories off, managing a small smile and an amused huff. “It seems the new technique I was researching does work.” He said lightly, not really lying, just not telling the whole truth either. It _was_ a new technique; he had invented it himself and was still researching it. Not that this Anakin needed to know it. The teen rolled his eyes, exasperated.

“Fine. Keep your secrets, old man. I have to go, or Teacher Tinbeth will skin me alive.” He said, darting out of the room.

Ben blinked, watching his retreating form. This whole situation was getting more mysterious with each passing moment. Teacher Anabceci Tinbeth, if his memory was correct, was a non-Jedi instructor who led the course of galactic law for Initiates and Padawans. But she had retired just a week before Anakin got Knighted.

But if she was here… Ben looked around, searching for a datapad. It was lying on a small table next to the bed. Ben took it and turned on.

**_05.27.7949 CRC._ **

**_Centaxday._ **

Ben stared. He checked again and even searched the Net to see if there was some kind of mistake. But everything he found only supported his quickly growing suspicion.

He was in the past. Truly and without any doubt. Some might scoff at the idea but Ben had lived a long live. He simply knew that everything was possible. If the Force was meddling.

The Force swirled with mirth as if laughing and tugged at him, gently urging him to reach out, to explore. Ben obeyed, still in shock. He lowered his shields just a bit and promptly collapsed on the floor, gasping.

There was so much Light around him. And not only that, but there were familiar signatures as well. Jedi signatures. Thousands of them, radiating peace and comfort. After twenty years surrounded by suffocating Darkness with only Luke’s presence shining like a beacon it was overwhelming.

Ben struggled to raise his shields again. It was too much. He could not think, he was going insane, he could not **_breathe_** -

Someone slammed their own shields around Ben’s mind. They were a little clumsy, hastily made, but still very welcome. He sighed, relaxing slightly.

His savior projected worry and concern into the Force and at him quite strongly. Ben winced and the emotions dimmed a little. He immediately recognized that signature. Anakin. It was Anakin. His Padawan, not the twisted, broken version of him Ben had met on the Death Star. Ben could cry from joy. Maybe he _was_ crying, everything was so confusing right now.

Anakin was speaking to him in a panicked, high-pitched voice. Ben was having trouble understanding the words and he wanted to reach out and hug his little brother. Or drag him into his arms there he would be safe and protected and never let go. But Ben could not do it, his arms were not listening and refused to move. He could not feel them or the rest of his body at all. Strange.

Another signature was moving closer. Ben heard a thud as someone dropped down to their knees next to him and Anakin. The person reached out, taking over the job of shielding Ben’s mind from Anakin. And now Ben recognized them too. Quinlan. This time Ben definitely sobbed.

Quinlan was talking too, but not to Ben. Slowly, with too much effort for his liking, Ben opened his eyes. He was lying flat on his back, his head cushioned on Anakin’s lap. He was not crying. Yet. Quinlan was kneeling on his right, one of his glowed hands was on Ben’s forehead, another one was clasping Ben’s hand. The Kiffar let out a relieved sigh when he saw Ben look at him. Ben wanted to give him a smile but Anakin’s face unexpectedly (or maybe not) blocked his view.

“Master?” He asked tentatively, voice shaking a little. Ben frowned. Anakin sounded too distressed, Ben was out for only a few moments, he should not worry so much. Ben sent reassurance and love through their bond and received a mix of disbelief, hope and concern in return. Combined with a shocked face of his Padawan it was not a very good mix. Surely Anakin knew that Ben loved him, right?

“You scared us here, Obi.” Quinlan said with a small huff. To Ben’s bewilderment, his friend truly looked scared. Not that anyone else would notice. Only those who knew him well. His smirk was shaky at best and a hint of tension in his posture was a quite telling sign. Ben wanted to hug him too.

It was almost unbelievable to see his friends alive and well once again. It was a struggle to get used to be on his own after their deaths. To not feel the comforting buzz of their presence around him. To reach out without a second thought and not find them in the back of his mind, there the bonds connected them. He had isolated himself from the rest of the population since it was dangerous to make new connections or acquaintances. Ben got used to the idea that he had no one to rely on, that he was alone. He had been holding the weight of the Galaxy on his shoulders for too long. He accepted it. He had always known that he was destined for infinite sadness. He had learned to live (was it a real life and not simply existence?) with that. He had been ready to reunite with them all in the Force, was very eager. And now, his friends’ disturbed faces looked down at him, reminding Ben that he had spent too much time without them.

Unaware of Ben’s inner turmoil, Quinlan shifted his gaze from Ben to Anakin. “Go call Healer Bant. And tell her to bring a ‘stretcher.” Anakin gave Quinlan a dubious look. Quinlan chuckled. “Go, I’ll look after him, don’t worry, kid.” Anakin nodded reluctantly and went to move Ben’s head from his lap. Ben let out a protesting noise. He did not want Anakin to go. What if something happened, what if someone attacked him and Ben wasn’t there to help?

Anakin momentary settled back, freezing. Quinlan let out an exasperated sigh. “Now is not the time to avoid healers, Obi. You literally cannot stand.” He berated, completely missing the reason of Ben’s protest. Rolling his eyes, Ben tried to sit up. Anakin and Quinlan both pushed him back down. “Stay here.” Quinlan said sternly. Ben glared at him, annoyed. Fine. He won’t stand up.

Twisting, Be- Obi-Wan, he needed to get used to his own name again (who would have thought?), managed to wrap his arms around Anakin and drag him down next to him. Anakin yelped in surprise. Obi-Wan did not give him time to protest or react, he simply tugged his Padawan into a tight hug, tucking Anakin’s head under his chin, like he used to do when Anakin was younger (even younger than now, oh Force) and had a nightmare, placing his own head on the top of his sandy blond hair. He closed his eyes, content to stay right there.

“Master Vos? I think we broke him.” Anakin stage-whispered, trying wriggle away. Obi-Wan huffed at that, the sound was echoed by Quinlan.

“It takes a little more to break this little piece of bantha poodoo.” The Knight’s snickers were interrupted by a grunt of pain when Obi-Wan kicked him in the shin. Quinlan rolled his eyes. “See, he’s already feeling better. I'll go call the healer.” Quinlan announced and Obi-Wan’s whole being froze in panic. He snatched Quinlan’s hand and yanked him. Surprised, he fell with a squeak and Obi-Wan immediately rearranged them so he was now wrapped around both Anakin and Quinlan, leaving them no chance to get out.

“Uh, Obi? While I’m truly fluttered that you’re so eager to get me into your arms, I do not think our audience will appreciate it as much as I do.” Quinlan tried to ease the tension in the room and as usual, used the worst method he had ever had. Flirt. Obi-Wan hit him lightly on the arm. Then he hugged them closer, letting out a small sob. Quinlan and Anakin both froze. They must have felt his panic and desperation. He was a mess. Quinlan slowly untangled one arm from the pile of limbs and reached up to run his hand through Obi-Wan’s hair. He used to do it every time after Obi-Wan had a particularly unpleasant vision. It’s been a long time since he had done that. With his undercover missions as a Shadow and the war, there had not been enough time for them to even have a normal non-war related conversation.

The motion was soothing. Obi-Wan had to stop himself from melting into a puddle. “Here, Obi, it’s alright. I’ll stay with you, nothing to worry about.” Quinlan murmured. Obi-Wan made a content sigh, burrowing deeper into the buzz of his friend’s welcome force presence. Quinlan felt steady and warm with a well-hidden hint of worry underneath it, while Anakin felt mostly distraught, a little afraid and surprised. But still pleased, even though he tried to hide that fact.

Obi-Wan suppressed a snort. Anakin was a rather affectionate person, very tactile. He understood touch better than words sometimes. But when the puberty hit, he had gotten that idea that he was too old for a physical sign of affection. He had stopped hugging Obi-Wan, had shrugged off his hand from his shoulder. In his first life Obi-Wan accepted it without a word, letting the distance between them grow, not wanting to push Anakin. But now he knew better. He just tugged Anakin a little closer, flooding their bond with love and pride. Force knew he did not do that enough the first time. But he would be better now. He would fix if not everything (he was not that delusional), then at least his relationship with his Padawan. He woldn’t let the Sith enslave Anakin. He refused to see him hurt again.

“Are you sure he is okay?” Anakin’s anxious voice asked. He was clutching Obi-Wan’s arm in his and he was doing it unconsciously. “He had never done-” he stuttered, searching for the right word, “that.” He finished lamely, gesturing down at Obi-Wan. Quinlan snorted.

“Oh, he does that a lot, kid. You just have never been here for that kind of- uff.” He was cut off, when Obi-Wan’s elbow connected with his ribs. Maybe he should tell them that he was alright, but it fell like too much work. And Obi-Wan was tired.

Exhaustion washed over him, pulling him deeper and making it harder to stay awake. Obi-Wan struggled to keep his eyes open, panic rearing its’ ugly head once again. What if he woke up and it all turned out to be a dream and he would be alone in the middle of the desert? He could almost feel the phantom Darkness surround him, suffocating him, he couldn’t breathe, **_he couldn’t breathe!_**

“Obi! Obi, hey, look at me!” Quinlan’s face filled his line of vision. Blindly, Obi-Wan reached out and clutched his tunic tightly in his fist. Quinlan paid it no mind. He just shifted it a little higher and pressed his own hand on Obi-Wan’s chest. “Deep breaths, Obi, I know you can do it, just like me, come on, in, hold… out.” He instructed, breathing slowly. It took some time but eventually, Obi-Wan managed to match their breathing patterns and calmed down enough to not be on the verge of passing out.

Quinlan maneuvered him up so he was seated on his lap, his head tucked in the crook between his shoulder and neck. He wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “That’s it, you’re okay, you did well.” He muttered quietly, accepting a glass of water from Anakin. He dipped it so it was comfortable for Obi-Wan to drink. Obi-Wan drunk obediently. He had no energy to protest. Quinlan put the glass down and flashed a smirk at the nervous Anakin. “Now, we’re gonna make a little trip to the Halls of Healing.” He said as he stood up, hauling Obi-Wan into his arms bridal style. Anakin hurried to follow.

Obi-Wan payed no attention to their surroundings. He closed his eyes, focusing on the Force around him. It was singing, happy and content. Obi-Wan smiled. He felt flashes of concern and curiosity from the Jedi they were passing. It warmed something small and long broken inside him. It was nice to know that someone cared about you.

Quinlan kicked the doors open, not bothered by a stern “Knight Vos!” he got from one of the healers as he strode forward, Anakin hurried behind him, sending a sheepish smile at the displeased healer. Just before Quinlan’s leg could connect with another door, it opened, revealing a hard-faced Bant Eerin. She opened her mouth to reprimand him but Quinlan nodded down at his cargo. Bant’s eyes widened before her face went blank. “Place him here.” She gestured at the bed, now fully in her healer mode.

“What happened?” She demanded, checking Obi-Wan quickly for any sign of injury. Upon finding none she turned to grab the scanner. Quinlan was unsuccessfully trying to pry his tunic out of Obi-Wan’s grip, muttering curses under his breath. He ignored the question, so Bant turned to Anakin. The teen was tense, clearly uncomfortable in the Halls. He flushed and stepped closer.

“I don’t know what happened. One moment he was alright and I was walking towards my classroom, when our bond, err, it was like, like it exploded or was flooded with feelings.” He tried to explain, gesturing around. Anakin gulped, looking at the pale form of his Master on the bed. “I don’t think they were his… or maybe they were, I don’t know. He was out for an hour, when Master Vos arrived. What’s wrong with him?” He turned his pleading gaze at Bant.

The scanner beeped, indicating that it was done. Bant quickly looked over the information and inhaled sharply. Both Quinlan’s and Anakin’s heads shot up at the sound. “What? Is it bad? Force, is he dying?” Anakin rumbled, hands flying up to grip his hair.

“No one is dying, calm down kid. Bant?” Quinlan raised an eyebrow at the healer. She sighed.

“He is not dying, Padawan Skywalker.” Bant reassured the teen. He visibly sagged with relief and fell heavily into the chair for visitors.

“But?” Quinlan prompted. Bant suppressed the urge to whack him over the head with a scanner. Her friend had an uncanny ability to wound her up like no one else.

“But he has a severe condition of Force exhaustion, general exhaustion and his Force signature is so different now... You said your bond was flooded?” She clarified. Anakin nodded, eyes wide and scared. Bant scrolled the information. “Anything else?” Quinlan cursed and gave up, letting Obi-Wan clasp his tunic.

“Well, with the exception that he’s been gripping us like hela, can’t build a shield and hadn’t talked at all, he’s perfectly fine.” He quipped sarcastically and cursed again when Obi-Wan took advantage of his distraction and dragged him into the bed. Quinlan sighed, not stopping Obi-Wan from cuddling closer. “See?” He grumbled, but sneaked his arms around his friend.

Bant was lost. Obi-Wan symptoms were clear and she knew the diagnose. But it was impossible, she had seen him only two days ago and he was fine. How could he develop such a severe case of Force-starvation in only two days? Her musings were interrupted by a gentle nudge against her shields. Obi-Wan. Bant lowered her shields, inviting him and was immediately stunned by the sheer amount of joy he felt upon seeing her. “That’s that I’m talking about.” Skywalker muttered. “He’s so… happy.” The boy said in surprise, looking up at Bant. “I- he- he had never showed that he felt at least not so openly.” He stuttered, looking down at his boots. “I did not know he felt like th-” He whispered and cut himself off with a shake of his head. Bant was not sure, but he looked like he was one step away from bursting into tears.

She turned away, giving the boy a little privacy. She could understand him. Obi-Wan’s emotions were like a hurricane. There was love, joy and happiness. But at the same time there was a thick layer of sadness and grief. And more concerning - raw pain. But it was not physical, which made everything worse. Obi-Wan was not even aware that he was projecting. His shields were down and he seemed to soak in the Force, like a loth-cat basking in the sunlight. This only strengthened her confidence in the diagnosis, even if it was impossible.

Bant commed Healer Che, needing her advice and turned her attention to Anakin. “Padawan Skywalker, don’t you have lessons today?” The teen jerked, looking at Bant with huge betrayed eyes.

“I do. But I can’t possibly leave Ob- Master Obi-Wan here! He needs me!” He instantly argued, his posture going rigid. Bant sent him a stern look. He was stubborn, much like Obi-Wan but Bant was used to difficult patients.

“Right now, he needs to rest. I understand your concern, but I can assure you that he will be fine in a couple of hours when you come to see him. _After your lessons_.” She emphasized the last words, crossing her arms over her chest, indicating that she didn’t intend to argue the point. The boy opened his mouth, no doubt to disagree but paused, tilting his head to look at the bed.

Obi-Wan was sound asleep and something truly unexpected was happening. His shields slowly rose up, like it was an absolutely natural thing for a Force user to manifest mental shields this good in their sleep. If she was not looking at him, Bant would not even know that he was in the room. Quinlan’s eyes were wide and he paled drastically. He was staring at Obi-Wan, who was sleeping peacefully on his chest. His grip on Obi-Wan was bruising, but the sleeping man did not seem to notice.

“He did it this morning.” Skywalker whispered. Bant tuned her attention to him. The teen continued unprompted: “I peeked into his room because I could not find him and could not sense him. He said it was some kind of new technique he was researching.” Bant shared a glance with Quinlan. Every Jedi was taught basics of cloaking their force signature but only the Shadows studied this technique thoroughly. And they had absolutely nothing to do with what Obi-Wan was doing. The Shadows dimmed their signatures and projected Force suggestions for people to look away, to not pay attention and to forget about the person. Obi-Wan was not projecting anything, it was simply like his signature had disappeared out of existence.

What happened in those two days?

***

Left, right, left, right…

One step after another.

Left, right, left, right… Cody followed his _vod’e_ into the mess hall. He sat down on his usual sit, barely keeping himself from grimacing at the sight of the bland mush in the bowl. Ugh, he had hoped to never eat it again. But well, there were worse things to eat, judging by Rex’ complains about his General’s eating habits. Cody forced himself to discard that line of thoughts, ignored the painful squeeze in his chest and started eating.

He did not want to think about his _vod’ika,_ who he had not seen in twenty years and who did not even know him right now. No one did. Cody tried to think rationally. He had died. That was a fact. And at the same time, here he was, alive and healthy, in the mass hall on the Kamino. Could his life be a distinctly vivid dream? Cody dismissed this thought as soon as it formed. It was too detailed to be a dream. He still remembered the red sands of Geonosis, the cold of Hoth and the burn of Ventress’ twin ‘sabers. It had to be real.

But what was _this_? Cody surveyed the room with his peripherical vision. Hundreds of his _vod’e_ of various age (although, no older than six) were sitting there, eating. An occasional instructor passed through. The longnecks were watching them from above. Suddenly, something clicked and in a moment Cody was up and alert, waiting for the danger to reveal itself. One of the suspension bridges creaked and one of the lower panels began to slowly break off from it. Cody froze. He knew what would happen next, he remembered this moment, he had _lived_ through it. Ignoring a longneck who was ordering him to return to his seat he sprinted forward. A bunch of _vod’e_ were sitting at the table exactly where the panel would fall. They didn’t even notice that something was wrong, no one did.

“Attention troopers!” Cody barked, without stopping running till he reached the table. Automatically, the _vod’e_ jumped up from the table, saluting. “Evacuate the room, secure the perimeter. Now!” Cody yelled again, taking advantage of their confusion. The _vod’e_ darted away toward the nearest table to move the _vod’e_ sitting there, carrying out an order without realizing its absurdity. But one hesitated, staying right under that karking panel! Cody surged forward and yanked him away, falling down on the floor. And right after that, the panel fell down with a deafening bang.

Silence fell over the hall. The _vod_ in Cody’s arms stared at the panel with wide eyes. He was trembling, terror and the realization of what he had just escaped, did their job. The boy’s breath was coming out in short whizzes. Cody sat up, dragging the boy up as well. He placed them so that the panel was not visible. “Alright, _vod’ika_ , eyes on me.” He ordered. It might have seem a little harsh, but it would help like nothing else would. The boy’s eyes instantly darted up to meet his. “Now, take a deep breath, yes, just like that. Keep it, you’re doing good, let it out.” Cody followed his own instructions to help the boy and soon he was calming down. “Alright?” Cody asked. The boy gave him a shaky nod. Cody returned it and stood up, helping the boy up as well.

The panel was surrounded by curious _vod’e_ and maintenance droids. Two longnecks and an instructor were making their way toward it, while another group of instructors was walking toward Cody. He straitened up. His posture perfect, expression blank. He saluted as soon as the group neared. “Sir. CC-2224 reporting for duty.” He said in an empty tone, one required from all clones. The instructors looked down at him, frowning. They were wearing their _beskar’gam_ , but not their _buy’cee_. He recognized them. Cort Davin – instructed ARCs and Commanders. B'arin Apma - strength and endurance training. Llats Ward – strategy, tactics and battle history.

Cort raised an eyebrow. “And what do you have to report, trooper?” He drawled and Cody tried hard to resist the urge to break his nose. This man was one of their best instructors and at the same time one of the cruelest. It was not on purpose; it was just his training method. Cody looked up at him.

“Permission to speak, sir?” B’arin snorted behind Cort, but he ignored him and nodded. Cody kept his voice void of emotion and stuck only to the facts. “Approximately seven minutes ago I noticed that one of the panels of the suspension bridge was in a dangerous position. I took it upon myself to remove the troopers from the affected area, since there was no time to inform anyone from the command.” He informed the men and paused. He did not want to say this part but it was necessary. “I am prepared to take the appropriate punishment, sir.”

By the end of his report the instructors’ eyebrows looked ready to leave the ATMO. Only years of practice had allowed him to keep his face emotionless. The instructors shared a glance. Llats looked past Cody and he tried his best not to shift and hide the saved _vod_ from their view. Cort cocked his head, thinking. “I’ve seen the whole thing. Not many experienced warriors would have known what to do. And you kid not only reacted instantly but also managed to save absolutely all those clones in a matter of seconds. And how? By ordering them to secure the room!” He finally said with a thundering laugh, clapping Cody on the back. Hard.

“Why did you do that?” Llats asked, curious. Cody raised his gaze.

“It was the fasted way to remove them from the dangerous zone.” He answered, voice flat. Only a selected few would have caught the sarcasm in his tone and none of them were here. Llats nodded, looking thoughtful. Cort nodded to himself.

“CC-2224, right?” Cody nodded. A tendril of fear tried to rise in his chest but he squashed it. He was done being scared. Enough was enough.

Cody did not like this expression on Cort’s face. It all but shouted ‘trouble’. He resisted the urge to gulp. “CC-2224. For your quick thinking, I appoint you to the position of an observer.” Huh. It was not that bad. An observer was supposed to watch the younger _vod’e_ and report any acts of disobedience or violation of the rules. The position also had its’ perks. He would be allowed to be in the halls after curfew. It would be a perfect opportunity to explore and search for clues. A rather unpleasant smirk etched itself onto Cort’s face, crushing Cody’s hope that he would get away from this situation quickly. “But for the fact that you violated a direct order of command, you also will get two ten-day of special training with me personally. I’ll make a perfect commander out of you.” Why did it sound like a threat? Cody saluted again.

“Sirs.” They waved him off.

Cody took _be‘vod_ hand and started making his way toward his own table. The other _vod’e_ watched them with wide eyes. Kark, that was exactly that he wanted to avoid.

_(“Come on Cody. Not even the most elaborate plan survives a collision with the enemy.”_

_“Is it the reason why you jetiise dive in head first into the battle without thinking?”_

_“We do not need to plan, the Force guides us.”_

_“Sure, whatever you say, General.”_

_“Obi-Wan, Cody, it’s just Obi-Wan.”)_

Cody summoned his best glare (the one that made shinies cry, according to Boil) and proposedly strode forward. He reached his table and thrusted the _vod_ onto his seat. “Drink.” He ordered. The boy hurried to comply. Cody turned to the longneck.

“Your designation?” It (Cody did not give a damn which one it was) asked.

“CC-2224.” He answered evenly.

“You ignored my order.” It stated. Cody wanted to pluck its’ eyes with his blaster.

“The products were in danger.” He said emotionlessly. The longneck cocked its’ head. Cody took it as a sign that he should continue. “There was by my estimation at least one squad. It would be counterproductive to allow them to perish under such circumstances when they could still benefit the Republic.” The longneck’s gaze was cold and calculating. Cody stood still, waiting. The perfect image of an obedient brainless soldier. Finally, it nodded, dismissing Cody and glided away.

Cody turned around, leaning heavily on the table. His heart was beating too fast. Why? He had been in situations far worse than this. Christophsis, Jabiim, Umbara… Nope, not going there. Why couldn’t his knees stop shaking? It was not that damn hard. He let out a Huttese curse he had picked up from his General (who in turn had picked it up from General Skywalker but refused to admit it), startling the nearest _vod’e._

“Kriff, _vod_. What the hell did you do?” Someone whispered, breaking Cody out of his thoughts. He raised his head and came face to faces with his batchmates. Well, technically only Wolffe, Bly, Fox, Ponds and Gree were from his batch, the rest of his squad was compiled from different batches. Ponds was frowning, so Cody assumed he was the one who spoke.

“I did what I had to do.” He replied in a low voice. Someone groaned.

“You’ll get yourself culled if you continue pulling stunts like that.” Ponds muttered. Cody saw red.

“You think I should have just let them die?” Ponds flinched at his cold tone and he was not the only one. But Cody was too far gone now to care about it. He had seen too many _vod’e_ die in meaningless battles because of orders from incompetent and uncaring officers. He would not allow his own _vod’e_ to be like that. “Longnecks are already killing us by the hundreds for something we have no control over.” Ponds looked like he wanted to interrupt but Wolffe clapped his hand over his mouth. “The instructors don’t care if we live to see the end of their training.” A couple of _vod’e_ nodded in agreement. “Fett only cares about his son, and we’re just expendable to him.” Cody paused, leaning further onto the table for dramatic effect _(A little theatricality_ _won’t hurt anyone, my dear Commander)_ and continued: “Nobody cares about us. If we don’t keep an eye on each other, well, we’re already doomed.” He finished with a downright freezing smirk.

The _vod’e_ sat in stunned silence. His outburst rendered them speechless. The General would be proud. Cody ignored the painful pang in his chest, looking to his right as someone carefully tugged his sleeve. It was the _vod_ he had saved. He still seemed shocked, but was putting on a brave face. “Thank you, _ori’vod_.” He whispered in a rush. Cody’s face softened and he smiled.

“Don’t thank me, _adiik_. What’s your name?” The boy sneaked a glance around and leaned forward to whisper it into Cody’s ear.

“CC-2197. But you can call me Burk.” He smiled sheepishly, blushing a little.

“It’s a good name, _vod’ika_.” Cody assured the boy. “And you can call me Cody.” A smile Burk gave him could lit up a dozen of starfighters. Cody chuckled. “Go find your squad, kid. Before they leave without you.” Burk paled comically and bolted.

Cody shook his head after him and reluctantly turned back to look at his own squad. They were watching him in various degrees of curiosity and suspicion. Cody rubbed his temple. He felt a headache building. He dropped down into his seat and picked up his spoon. Better finish this now. Slowly, the _vod’e_ returned to their meals, like nothing had happened. Although, a pointed look from Wolffe told Cody that they would have a conversation later. 

Huh. It was a weird feeling. In fifteen minutes, he saved twenty lives and may have changed the future course of events. Maybe Burk and his team would be needed to complete one of the missions. Maybe they could save some of the Jedi who had died during Cody’s past life. Maybe this time it would be-

Wait. This time, this time, _this time_. Cody felt that the answer was so close. He just had to reach out and grab it. But it still eluded him. Frustrated, Cody let out a sharp breath and looked around the room again. The answer was right on the surface, he just couldn’t see it. Think, think, think. Go over the facts again. He was CC-2224 also known as Marshal Commander Cody of 7th Sky Corps and 212th Attack Battalion. He worked under the High Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi. He served the Republic and later the Empire. He died at the age of thirty-two. Not much for a baseline sentient but with his advanced aging and the huge amount of stress, Cody looked and felt sixty-four. What else? He woke up in his bed on the Kamino, twenty-something years in the past-

The spoon fell from Cody’s numb fingers with a loud clank. But he did not even notice.

Could it- no. Of course not. It was impossible.

_(Oh, everything is possible through the Force, my dear.)_

Cody’s breath hitched at the sudden realization. He was in the past. It was the only possible excplaination.

Kriff. _Kriff_. His head was spinning. If that was true, then the Force had given Cody a second chance. He could fix everything. The rise of the Empire, the death of hundreds of Jedi and hundreds of thousands of his brothers. Destruction of entire planetary systems and genocide. He could save his General.

The last though filled Cody with giddiness. He wanted to laugh, loud and happy. His General was alive! Granted, he was probably risking his neck on some backwater planet in Outer Rim, but he was alive! And he would find them. Cody just had to wait six years. Oh. His smile dimmed.

Blast. Six years. Could he hold on for six years and not go mad? Cody was not sure if he would be able to do it all again. Oh, he would pass the training exercises just fine, he just needed some time to get used to the new/old size of his body. And remember not to overdo it. It would be too suspicious if he suddenly would be fighting better than he did yesterday.

No, he didn’t think he could just stand by and watch the longnecks torture and kill his _vod’e_.

Involuntary, Cody clenched his fists. He had seen too much death. There was no way he would idly stand by and let more deaths happen if he could prevent it.

But he would have to do everything alone. Cody’s stomach dropped. He had never been truly alone. Growing up his _vod’e_ were constantly around him. And he always had been able to lean on them. During the Clone Wars, he met the Jedi, who showed him that his life was as valuable and important as the life of any natborn. His General became one of his dearest friends. In the Imperial army... Cody’s memories of that period were somewhat blurred, as if it was all happening to someone else, and he was only watching it through a holo. But he had not cared about anyone during that period, he was certain. He still had felt that crashing loneliness and longing for company keenly. It was enough to send shivers down Cody’s spine. He did not want to feel it again. Ever.

Sure, he still had his _vod’e_. But it would not be the same. They did not know _him_. Cody, who was a Marshall Commander, the highest-ranking clone in the GAR. Cody, who had seen and done some truly beautiful and utterly horrible things. Cody, who loved and grieved.

Tears pricked at his eyes but Cody refused to let them fall. He had to be strong. Fine, they were not _his_ brothers but at the same time they were. If everything went as Cody planned, they would never be the same people they once were. But that’s alright. They would be happier. And that was all that mattered to Cody.

He would miss them, sure. Grumpy Wolffe, carefree Bly, tired Fox, serious Ponds, mischievous Gree, cheerful Gregor, good-natured Waxer, tired-of-your-bantha-poodoo Rex…

Force, Rex. They had not met until Cody was five and a half. Cody had bumped into him purely by a chance. Rex had been hiding in an alcove, crying because he was afraid that the longnecks would decommission him. Cody had calmed him down and from that moment he had always kept an eye on Rex, watching over him and stepping in when he needed his help.

Cody would do it again in a heartbeat. He just had to suppress his emotions. He could not let anyone see that the lack of recognition in their eyes felt like a stab. He would be fine.

If the Force had sent him into the past alone, then it knew that Cody would succeed. The Force was never wrong. Cody would save his brothers, the Jedi and the Galaxy with them. Even if he had to do it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a  
> Vod - Sibling/Brother/Sister  
> Vod’e - Siblings/Brothers/Sisters  
> Be’vod - Sibling’s, possessive prefix  
> Vod’ika - Little Sibling/Brother/Sister  
> Beskar’gam - Armor (Iron skin)  
> Buy’ce - Helmet  
> Jetiise - Jedi (Plural)  
> Ori’vod - Older Sibling/Brother/Sister  
> Adiik - Child between 3 and 13 years old  
> Hela, according to Wookieepedia, is a nonsentient creature with eel-like body, with basket shaped heads with four jaw-like flaps and four tentacles.
> 
> Angst, fluff and angst again. I outdone myself. But do not worry, everything will be better soon. Maybe.  
> I used the word burc'ya as the basis for Burk’s name. Burc'ya means friend in Mando'a.


	3. Three – The Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan talks to the Council, Master Windu nurses a headache and Quinlan has the time of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no Cody this time. He is very busy planning a murder.

_A man in gleaming black armor._

_Young man with sandy blond hair._

_The Emperor._

_A flash of lightning._

_A clang of a fallen mask._

_Familiar blue eyes._

_Forgiveness._

_…_

This time Obi-Wan woke up because his pillow was trying to wriggle away. Obi-Wan grumbled and tightened his hold. The pillow stopped moving but let out a rumble. Obi-Wan frowned. Pillows did not rumble. Come to think, they did not move either. Slowly, Obi-Wan opened his eyes to look at his ‘pillow’. Well, it was not a pillow. It was a person. And judging by the dark tunic, it was Quinlan Vos.

“Had a good nap, Sleeping Beauty?” Yep. Definitely Quinlan. The teasing tone and a hint of mirth underneath it. Used to drive him crazy a lot when they were Younglings. After that too. Obi-Wan missed it a lot.

He tilted his head up and could not quite suppress a grin. Quin’s hair looked like an avian’s nest. Add creased clothes, a pillow print on his face and a failed attempt to look as if everything was perfectly normal and that would be a rough description of a view that welcomed Obi-Wan to the waking world.

Obi-Wan could not help it. He let out a snort. Then a chuckle. A moment later he was shaking with soundless laughter, ignoring Quinlan’s offended gasp.

“Is this how you greet your best friend in the Galaxy?” He whined, pouting. He would have crossed his arms but Obi-Wan was in his way. Quinlan settled on just turning his head away. Obi-Wan huffed but could not master any annoyance at this kind of behavior. He had missed him too much for that.

It must have showed in his eyes since Quinlan turned back, looking a little lost. “Obi, what the kriff happened there?” He asked, his voice quiet, eyes searching Obi-Wan’s face.

Obi-Wan sighed, racking his brain for some kind of plausible excplaination. He could not just tell Quinlan the truth. But he could not outright lie or dance around the topic either. Quinlan would know. They knew each other too well. Obi-Wan bit his lip. He did not know what to do.

Quinlan quickly got tired of waiting. “You tell me or I’ll see it myself.” He threatened, wriggling his fingers. Obi-Wan batted them away from his face, grumbling. “What was that?” Quinlan asked with a smug grin. Obi-Wan did not bother with answer. He just pushed Quinlan out of the bed.

Not expecting that kind of betrayal, the Kiffar fell down with a squeak. Obi-Wan ignored the spring of insults on his person, burrowing deeper into the blankets. He peeked out to see what Quinlan was doing. The answer was – nothing. He was lying on the floor in a starfish position, looking at the ceiling like it held all the answers he never needed to know.

He blew a lock of his hair out of his face and glared up at Obi-Wan. Quinlan opened his mouth to say something but Bant’s voice cut through the overwise silent room:

“Quinlan Vos! How many times have I told you not to disturb the patients?” She scolded the Knight and instantly turned her attention to the patient in question. “I hope you did not try to stand?” Bant asked, a slight threat in her tone. Obi-Wan shook his head, smiling. It was nice to see Bant again. And this time he was not half-asleep.

Bant nodded slowly, clearly not believing him in the slightest. Quinlan dramatically threw his hands up. “You do not trust me to take care of our favorite Jedi?” He asked pretending to be insulted. Bant strolled past him, grabbed the scanner and walked back toward the bed, turning it on.

“I would not trust you with a rock, Quin. Now, be quiet or I’ll kick you out.” She hushed Quinlan before he could start arguing. The Kiffar crossed his arms and sulked.

“I feel insulted.” He declared. Obi-Wan snorted. Bant ignored them both, focusing on the scanner. The whole situation was ridiculous. He felt Bant’s mild annoyance and Quinlan’s joy and knew that the threat was not real. More like a friendly banter. Oh, how he missed it.

The scanner beeped. Bant scrolled through the information and nodded, satisfied. She placed it on the nearby table and sat down next to Obi-Wan. Not wanting to miss the opportunity, he reached out and took Bant’s hand in his, squeezing it lightly. She smiled and squeezed it back. “How do you feel?” Bant asked firmly. Obi-Wan knew that he’d better tell her everything than to lie or try to get away when she used that tone.

“I’m quite alright, my dear.” He said or, well, tried to say. It came out sounding more like a wheeze. Maker above, how long had he slept? Quinlan stood up in one fluid motion and was next to the bed with a cup of water a moment later. Obi-Wan took it, nodding his thanks. Quinlan and Bant shared a glance.

“Obi…” Bant started gently, apparently searching for words.

“Be a good little patient and tell us what happened to you and left you so exhausted that you slept for three days.” Quinlan cut in, ignoring Bant’s glare and only arched an eyebrow at Obi-Wan in challenge. Obi-Wan opened his mouth and promptly closed it. Three days? It was a lot. No wonder he felt so stiff.

A thought occurred him. “How’s Anakin?” He questioned worriedly. Quinlan stared at him in disbelief. Then he barked out a laugh.

“Well, at least we know that he’s still our Obi, who ignores his own well-being in favor of others.” He told Bant with a smile. And rolled his eyes then he caught sight of Obi-Wan’s glare. “Your menace is fine.” Quinlan waved Obi-Wan’s concern off. “He’s been sleeping, eating, studying and worrying about you. Aayla’s been keeping his company.” He informed the pair, sounding proud and exasperated at the same time. He gave Obi-Wan a sly smirk. “They’ve been terrorizing Mace for two days already.” Obi-Wan groaned and buried his face in his palms. Maybe if he wished hard enough the ground would swallow him. But no, the Force only echoed Quinlan’s mirth.

Obi-Wan frowned. During his first life Anakin and Aayla had only met in passing. They were hardly acquaintances, much less friends. This time they’ve met properly and by the sound of it, were going to be good friends. Or at least partners in crime. How would it impact their new future?

“Speaking of Mace,” Bant’s voice tore Obi-Wan away from his musings, “the Council wants to talk to you. They expect you to come as soon as possible once you are awake.” She informed Obi-Wan. Her tone implied just how much she did not like that idea. Obi-Wan placatingly patted her hand.

“I will be alright, I promise. And I will even come back here after the talk.” He pledged. Bant merely leveled him an unimpressed stare. Quinlan sighed and held out his hand to help Obi-Wan out of bed. Three days in a horizontal position did not pass without a trace. Obi-Wan swayed in place, trying to find his balance, clutching Quinlan’s hand like a lifeline. His entire body screamed at him and his muscles ached. But it was still better than when he was in his late fifties. Obi-Wan shuddered at the memory.

“Sure you don’t need a hoverchair, grandpa?” Quinlan quipped, smirking. He was helping Obi-Wan walk out of the Healing Halls after Obi-Wan changed into a fresh set of robes and they said goodbye to Bant.

“You’re older than me, Quin.” Obi-Wan reminded without any heat. He was feeling better already, so Quinlan was now walking beside him rather than hovering over, waiting for him to drop down.

They walked in comfortable silence toward the Council Chamber. Quinlan was checking his wrist-comm for missed calls or messages and Obi-Wan was trying very hard not to cry from joy. He was home. The halls were familiar and comforting for his aching soul. Every passing Jedi filled him with hope and determination.

They were walking past the classrooms when a voice yelled: “Master!” And Anakin Skywalker all but threw himself at Obi-Wan, tackling him with a hug. If not for Quinlan the pair would have ended on the floor. But Obi-Wan ignored that little thought. He hugged Anakin back without hesitation. The teen froze for a moment, then doubled his afford.

“Padawan Skywalker!” The stern voice of the Astrogation’s teacher was heard. Anakin jerked away from Obi-Wan, his face red. Obi-Wan chuckled and ruffled his hair.

*I missed you too.* He sent through their bond and winked at the dumbstruck Anakin. Obi-Wan turned to face the teacher.

“Good morning, Teacher Niroen. Would it be possible to borrow my Padawan?” He asked, summoning his most charming smile and placing his hand on Anakin’s shoulder to stop him from doing anything rush. Although, right now it was mostly out of habit.

The teacher was taken aback by his question. They looked thoughtfully at Anakin and cocked their head. “Well, Padawan Skywalker is the best in the class and always does his homework… I can let him go today.” Their eyes narrowed and they pointed a finger at Obi-Wan. “But only today.” They said firmly. Obi-Wan nodded and turned Anakin away, nudging him forward.

“Thank you.” He said and the classroom door shut closed. As soon as he looked away, he was met with twin looks of curiosity.

“Why do you need the brat?”

“Are you okay? Should you be out of the bed? Did Quinser kidnap you?”

Quinlan and Anakin asked at the same time. They shut up and glared at each other. Obi-Wan suppressed a smile that threatened to show on his face. The two of them could never find a common ground. Anakin didn’t like Quinlan because of his attitude of ‘the worst bastard in the whole Galaxy’. And Quinlan liked to drive Anakin mad far too much to try being at least civil. Which did not help. Quite the opposite, really.

Obi-Wan hid his hands in his sleeves and resumed walking. Quinlan And Anakin could only follow. Once Obi-Wan was sure they were far enough he said: “I need you both with me in the Council Camber.” Anakin stumbled in surprise. Quinlan groaned.

“I’ve already seen their sour faces three days ago. Who do you think informed them about you? I can’t listen to their admonitions anymore. I have reached my personal quota after Mace said ‘Knight Vos’ in that exasperated tone of his for the twelfth time in five minutes.” Quinlan ranted, tugging at his dreadlock. He looked up at Obi-Wan sharply. “No more useless pretentious bantha-poodoo, Obi, I beg you.” And true to his words, he dropped down to his knees, hands folded in prayer.

Anakin snickered but tried to appear unbothered. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “You want me to face them alone? What will Bant say? Oh, no, I rephrase. What will Bant do?” He asked innocently, letting a wicked smile flash for a moment. Quinlan moaned and plopped down on the floor, clutching his heart.

“You’re killing me, Obi.” He whined, then raised his head and looked Anakin in the eyes. “Your Master is the cruelest being in the Galaxy, kid. Don’t let his so-called ideality fool you. He’s a Sith Acolyte incarnated.” Quinlan whispered the last part, his eyes wide and round. He was so focused on Anakin that he did not notice Obi-Wan move.

“Ouch!” Quinlan yelped, clapping a hand over the back of his head, there Obi-Wan slapped him.

“What’s that you get when you misbehave.” Obi-Wan said evenly, folding his hands and becoming a regal figure of the Perfect Jedi. Quinlan sighed, mouthed ‘told you’ to Anakin who giggled and stood up.

“You’re coming or do I have to carry you?” Quinlan asked sounding like he was doing them a great favor.

“What an unprecedented generosity, your Excellency.” Obi-Wan said with a bow. “We thank you for it and hope that our peoples will live in peace and prosperity.” Quinlan returned the bow with the grace of a drunk bantha. The two of them looked at each other for a bit and bursted out laughing.

Anakin stared at them with wide eyes. Well, to be fair, he was mostly staring at Obi-Wan. Right… he had never seen Obi-Wan like this. Before (let’s call the previous life that) he did not meet any of Obi-Wan’s friends in informal conditions. He didn’t know Garen at all. He didn’t get a chance to watch Obi-Wan fool around and tease his friends. When he and Anakin spent time together, Obi-Wan tried to conform to the Code and be a positive example as well as a mentor to Anakin. Despite this, their relationship had been still much stronger than that of other Masters with their Padawans. Still, many aspects of Obi-Wan’s personality remained a mystery to Anakin. Maybe it was time to change that.

But not right now. They’ve finally reached the door to the Council Chamber. It opened, letting them in.

Obi-Wan looked around familiar room, his eyes lingering on the present Jedi. Some of them had died on Geonosis, others during the war. And only one of them had survived. Obi-Wan’s gaze met Yoda’s and he felt like those eyes were looking straight through him.

“Knight Vos? Padawan Skywalker? We were not expecting you.” Mace Windu said with a perfectly blank face. Out of the corner of his eye Obi-Wan saw how Anakin stiffened and Quinlan adopted a bored look. Anakin had never gotten over his distrust toward the Jedi Council, even when Obi-Wan was a part of it, so his reaction was if not justified, then understandable. It did not help that more often than not, he met with the Council because he pranked someone or broke the rules.

While Obi-Wan knew how the Council worked from the inside and knew their motivation, he still was a little lost about the way they handled his Padawan. Well, if he was going to change the future why not start here?

Placing his hand on Anakin’s shoulder, Obi-Wan addressed the Master of the Order. “Master Windu, Knight Vos and my Padawan are here at my request.” Master Windu arched an eyebrow.

“And what is the reason for that action?” Master Koth questioned. Obi-Wan tilted his head.

“Emotion support and damage control.” He answered easily, a small friendly smile on his face, his posture relaxed. Someone snorted, probably Quin. Obi-Wan hid a smirk in his beard.

“We were informed by Healer Eerin that you have collapsed, Knight Kenobi. And this is the reason we wanted to speak with you.” Master Plo Koon took over while the other Masters tried to recover from his remark. The mask hid his face and made it impossible to see his expression but Obi-Wan could feel his concern. It was barely there, cloaked by Plo’s shields. But after years in Plo’s company and years spent studying the ways of the Force made it easy for Obi-Wan to catch even the smallest hint of emotion. And Plo’s genuine care and worry warmed Obi-Wan a little. Meanwhile, the Kel Dor continued: “But if you do not feel well enough, we can adjourn the meeting.” He suggested, although, it was clear that some of the other Masters disagreed.

Obi-Wan smiled warmly at his past (future?) friend. “Thank you, Master Plo, but I’m sure I can survive this meeting.” He teased lightly and Plo chuckled.

Master Depa Billaba cleared her throat and cocked her head a little. “And yet, you invited your Padawan and a friend to come with you. I admit, I’m curious why?” And she was not the only one, Obi-Wan felt it. Master Yaddle and Master Koth even leaned forward.

“As you all already know, my condition has been somewhat… unstable for the past three days.” Obi-Wan said diplomatically, ignoring Quinlan’s stifled snort and Anakin’s incredulous glare. He continued as if nothing happened: “While physically, I am healthy, my control of the Force and my emotions can sometimes slip.” Master Windu frowned slightly at that. Obi-Wan could feel Quinlan’s stare on the back of his head and Anakin’s disbelief over their bond. Right. He did not mention it before. But well, it was the truth.

He struggled to adjust to his new/old body, the knowledge of things he was able to do before and not quite know how to do now… Everything was confusing and complicated and the Force only laughed at his attempts to understand.

“Slip? Do you except Knight Vos and Padawan Skywalker to stop you from slipping?” Master Billaba inquired, leaning forward. Obi-Wan could almost taste her interest.

He shook his head a little. “I am afraid it would take more than my two dear friends to stop me, should anything happen.” Quinlan was definitely happy that he agreed to come. He was practically vibrating with amusement, enjoying the confusion on the Councilmen’s faces. While Anakin gawked at Obi-Wan like he had suddenly grown a second head or a set of gills.

Obi-Wan kept a friendly expression on his face, radiating an aura of innocence, not reacting at anything. Quinlan was biting back a grin. *Best. Meeting. Ever.* He sent over, struggling to keep himself from laughing out loud at the look on Master Tiin’s face.

Master Windu regained his calm first. “Then why are they here?” The question was asked in a mild tone but Obi-Wan still heard the undercut of annoyance.

“They are here to help keep my emotions steady or calm me down if something indeed goes wrong.” Obi-Wan informed the Council, still smiling. “In theory, it will allow us to avoid any excesses. And I won’t blow up Master Yoda’s hoverchair.” He finished letting a small amount of cheer be heard in his voice.

A couple of Jedi chocked and gasped. Someone snorted. Master Yoda cackled, ears twitching. Master Yaddle was shaking with laughter. “And what did his chair do to deserve your anger, young Knight?” She asked.

Obi-Wan smiled at the little green Jedi. “Nothing, Master Yaddle. I just needed a colorful example.” His reply caused another round of snorts, gasps and cackles.

Obi-Wan waited for everyone to calm down and said: “I also think that they should hear my explanation as well as you all.” At once, the atmosphere in the room quickly turned from relaxed to expectant. All attention was on Obi-Wan.

“We were quite concerned when we heard the news of your condition from Knight Vos and Healer Bant.” Master Billaba said, breaking the silence. “According to the report you have suffered from severe case of Force-starvation. Given the fact that you were healthy the day before, not to mention that it is currently simply impossible to find conditions under which you could get such condition, the Council decided to double-check the Healer Bant’s diagnosis and talk to you personally.” She looked Obi-Wan straight into the eyes. “And now I see that it was the right decision.” Her gaze fell a little lower, on Anakin’s shoulder, there Obi-Wan’s hand still rested.

Plo Koon inched his head in agreement. “Indeed, it seems impossible to become Force-starved nowadays.” He pondered for a moment. “However, it is clear that young Kenobi suffers from it.”

“What is a Force-starvation?” Anakin’s voice rang through the Chamber loud and concerned. Obi-Wan looked down at his Padawan with raised eyebrow. The teen realized just what he did and grimaced a little. “Sorry, Masters. I did not mean to interrupt.” He murmured, casting his eyes down. Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder in encouragement.

“It is a state of a Force-sensitive who has been in stressful or life-threatening situation for a long time without any contact with other Force-sensitive or without a way to reach the Force.” Master Koon explained, a tint of sadness colored his voice. “But it only happens if the user of the Light side of the Force is surrounded by the Darkness and vice versa.” He clarified. “Symptoms are problems with the Force control, sensitivity to other people's emotions and actions in the Force and the desire to immerse oneself in the Force and familiar signatures.” The Kel Dor hesitated but continued: “It is a very painful experience. In the past this condition has caused a lot of Masters to go mad.”

Anakin’s eyes widened and his jaw fell in shock. “But it cannot be true.” He argued, gaze shifting from one Master to another, searching their faces. Some were sympathetic, others blank and a few (like Plo) were sad. Anakin shook his head. “No. He was alright in the morning. A little weird and his shields felt strange but he was-” He cut himself off, whirling around to look Obi-Wan in the face. “Is it why you built them? So no one will be able to find out that you are in pain?” He asked quietly, but the silence in the Chamber allowed everyone to hear him.

Obi-Wan held back a sigh. He had forgotten how smart Anakin was, despite the periodic obliviousness. He did build those shields to block everyone but not because of pain. Although, the shields helped to dim the pain a little.

“Older you are than you seem, youngling.” Yoda’s voice pierced the silence and drew everyone’s attention. He was looking at Obi-Wan intensely, searching him. “Different you are. Feel it I can. Not the same Knight Kenobi you are who to the Chambers came a week ago.” He cocked his head. “Wrong, am I?”

The confusion that reigned in the room could be cut with a vibro-blade. “What are you talking about, Master Yoda?” Asked Master Billaba, frowning, her eyes slowly racking Obi-Wan’s frame up and down, trying to find a hint of difference. Yoda shook his head.

“Use the Force you should, can deceive you your eyes.” He advised, not taking his own eyes from Obi-Wan. “Show us, will you?” Obi-Wan nodded, took a deep breath, closed his eyes and lowered his shields a little more. He did not close them entirely since they left the Healing Halls, not wanting to frighten his friends even more. It let them feel his presence and their bonds but did not allow to catch his feeling or have a good look at his signature. And now he showed it.

The astonished gasps and a few curses filled the Chamber. Anakin’s hand gripped Obi-Wan’s forearm tightly. Quinlan reacted more restrained, since he had already seen it. Clutching Anakin’s hand in return, Obi-Wan exhaled and closed the shields entirely. Another set of curses, now with more Masters joining the choir and Obi-Wan opened his eyes.

“Obi-Wan, what was that?” It was a sign of how stressed Mace was if he used Obi-Wan’s name. His face was void of emotions but the pulsing vein on his forehead gave away just how furious he truly was. “Your Force signature can now rival Skywalker’s.” His voice was icy. “And I want to know exactly how it happened.” Mace said making an effort to calm himself.

Obi-Wan frowned. His signature was almost equal to Anakin’s? Now, that was a surprise. It certainly had not been on the Death Star and later-

Oh.

The Force audibly laughed at him.

Surprise quickly flickered through the Jedi’s features and they expectantly looked at Obi-Wan.

“A hard live you had, Master Kenobi.” Yoda said, his ears lowered and eyes filled with grief. The Councilmen shared looks of confusion but no one dared to interrupt.

Obi-Wan chuckled. “Life is never easy.” He replied. Yoda nodded in agreement.

“Never it is, indeed, hmmm.” He squinted at Obi-Wan. “A lot of pain I sense. Not physical it is. Not mental either. Grieving you are. Strongly. Too much grief it is.” Yoda’s ears dropped.

Obi-Wan smiled sadly. “I never claimed to be a perfect Jedi, Master. And I always struggled with attachments, you know that too.” Yoda shook his head.

“Try to confuse me you do not.” He said hitting the floor with his stick. “Tell us you need to. Or help we won’t be able to.”

“Obi-Wan, please, just tell us what happened.” Mace intervened, tired of waiting. Other Masters nodded in agreement. Even Anakin and Quinlan nodded, though Anakin was still keeping his hold of Obi-Wan’s hand.

Obi-Wan chuckled humorlessly, slathering his thoughts. “What happened, esteemed members of the Council, is that before I woke up on the day I collapsed, I was one with the Cosmic Force.” He raised his head and caught the Councilmen’s gazes. “And I certainly did not expect to wake up.”

These words had the effect of an exploding bomb. All Jedi (those who had the right anatomy) instantly turned pale. There was no doubt about the truth of his story, the Force confirmed everything.

“But how is that possible?” Murmured Master Billaba, staring at Obi-Wan as if he was a ghost. Well, technically he was. Or was not?

“Its ways the Force has and its reasons. Doubt it do not, young one.” Yoda said almost as an afterthought.

“Even if this is true, it doesn't explain the Force-starvation.” Master Ki-Adi-Mundi argued, frowning down at Obi-Wan.

“Why not?” Someone asked.

“Because he had to spent at least five years alone in the Darkness.” Master Ki-Adi-Mundi explained.

“But the Force-”

Obi-wan let the Council members argue among themselves. It was easier that way. The only ones not participating were Master Plo, Master Yaddle and Master Yoda. Quinlan and Anakin were silent at his side but he knew it would not last forever. Sighing, Obi-Wan sent a wave of calm through the Chamber. The effect was immediate. Quinlan looked at him with eyebrows raised so high it seemed like they tried to escape his face.

Master Windu took the lead. “Do you know why?” He did not bother to specify what exactly he was asking, and there was a distinct weariness in his voice. He rubbed his temples and winced. Obi-Wan heard him mutter under his breath: “Kriffing shatterpoints… more than Skywalker…”

“I do.” Obi-Wan stated and fell silent. Windu’s eye twitched. The Force encouraged Obi-Wan to speak, just not much. “As it happens, I’ve been surrounded by the Darkness for about thirty years.” The silence that fell in the Chamber was deathly. “At first, it was not so noticeable, not so strong.” He continued as if not noticing that some of the Council members were rapidly paling. “It lurked in the shadows, waiting for the right moment. And when it came, it attacked and won… No one survived.” Obi-Wan whispered, his grief almost solid in the air. “Even the Younglings were not spared...” Silent tears rolled down his face as he looked down at the floor, unblinking.

“Obi-Wan,” Plo Koon called gently, “how old are you?”

“Currently I am twenty-nine.”

“And how old were you when you died?”

If he thought the silence before was bad, now it was deafening.

“I did not die, Master Plo.” Obi-Wan clarified. “I merely joined the Force… as a spirit.”

Master Windu’s eye was constantly twitching now.

“And how old were you?” Master Plo pressed on.

And Obi-Wan gave up. “Fifty-eight.”

“And you were a Master.” Master Plo questioned.

“If it helps, I was in the Council too.” Obi-Wan interjected cheerfully.

Anakin's hand – which he had forgotten about – gripped his forearm with such force that his knuckles turned white. The Council members were grim, faces perfectly blank.

A sudden cackle broke the tension. All head turned at the direction of the sound. Master Yaddle was silently laughing, barely keeping herself from falling out of her hoverchair.

“Master, are you alright?” Master Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.

The small Jedi waved him off. “I'm perfectly fine. I just never imagined that one day I will see Qui-Gon’s Padawan sass the Council and declare that he will be a part of it! What I wouldn’t give to be able to see the brat’s face at the moment of the appointment.” Yaddle shook her head, grinning.

Obi-Wan snorted. “It was very similar to Senator Rantawi’s face at that moment when he was told that there were no priestesses of love on Coruscant.” Master Yaddle slapped her knee, laughing loudly. Yes, such mix of displease, surprise and disappointment that appeared on the Senator’s face was hard to forget.

“Did Qui-Gon’s ears turn red too?” Master Koth asked trying in vain to suppress his own laughter.

“No, but his face fell as if he had passed by a herd of very bad-smelling banthas.” Obi-Wan replied cheerfully. Qui-Gon’s dislike of the Council was legendary in the Temple. Many were shocked to learn that Obi-Wan was chosen as a member.

Meanwhile, Master Depa’s eyebrows decided to follow the example of Quinlan’s. “Time-travel? Is it that you are implying?” Master Yaddle nodded, giving Obi-Wan a smirk. “But why would the Force-” Master Billaba started to speak and stopped. Apparently, the pieces of the puzzle fell in place and she understood. Like the rest of the Council, like Quinlan. Only Anakin didn’t understand.

“What? Can someone explain?” He whined in annoyance and displease.

Master Plo looked at Obi-Wan but he shook his head. He could not talk about it. It was too soon. Quinlan put his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder in a silent gesture of support. Obi-Wan offered him a watery smile.

“It means, young Padawan, that your Master has come to us from a future where the Darkness has taken over everything. Where only one Lightsider remained alive.”

“I was not the only one.” Obi-Wan corrected softly. “I knew there were others but I did not know how many… by the end I could feel only two.”

The Force resonated with grief that was being realized into it. “Only two?” Master Depa whispered in horror. Obi-Wan nodded.

“Luke and Leia. Our last hope.” He said with a tender smile. Despite the fact that he had only seen Leia once and only watched Luke from afar, he loved the twins with all his heart. They were the only reminder of the family he had once had. “The only Jedi left in the Galaxy.”

“Obi-Wan… what caused such future?” Master Koth pleaded for an answer.

The words slipped easily from the tip of his tongue. “The Sith Lord.”

And the storm broke.

Usually calm and collected Jedi shouted and argued like merchants in a marketplace in Mos Eisley. The opinions of the Council members were divided. Someone believed that the Sith have long been destroyed and new ones could not appear, they would definitely notice. Others didn’t think it was wise to rule out such a possibility.

Obi- Wan simply leaned back against Quinlan’s chest and closed his eyes, falling into light meditation. He didn’t know how much time had passed but soon he felt Anakin join him. Quinlan, Yoda, and Master Yaddle followed. As a result, the entire Council gathered in a group meditation. Obi-Wan let their signatures intertwine with his. They were all so familiar but at the same time so new.

When they came out of their trance, someone let out a loud, sharp gasp. And Obi-Wan was the reason. Or rather the fact that he was levitating three feet above the floor. Obi-Wan hid a grin. For him, this has long been a familiar occurrence. He slowly descended and landed on his feet with practiced ease.

“I know it sounds like a rant of some mad hermit but I know what I am talking about.” Obi-Wan started quietly. “Five years ago, on the Naboo I fought the Apprentice. And the Master was hiding all this time.” He raised his head. “I won’t tell you everything and I certainly won’t tell you the Sith’s true identity.” The Force rang in agreement to his words. No one tried to object. Obi-Wan nodded. “But I was sent here for a reason. And I believe that it was to avert the future I’ve lived through.”

“But would it be wise? To change everything?” Master Ki-Adi-Mundi hummed. “Our actions may lead to an even more terrible future.”

Obi-Wan smiled bitterly. “The future is not set in stone. It is ever changing and ever moving. I do not know what the consequences of my actions will be, but neither do you. The only difference between us is that I know exactly what will lead to a particular future and I will try to avoid it. No matter the cost.” Obi-Wan swore.

“Why such extremes?” Master Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke up again. “Surely this future cannot be that bad?”

Obi-Wan looked him straight in the eye, deathly calm. “I lived through a devastating, pointless war. I won and lost countless battles. I saw horrors you cannot even imagine. Entire planets wiped out, silent and hollow. I felt thousands of Jedi die in a blink, betrayed by our most trusted allies. I’ve lost my brother-” his voice broke and he struggled to continue. “So, yes, it’s not that bad. It is much worse.”

No one spoke for a moment.

“Brother?”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and felt a smile appear on his face. Trust Anakin to focus on the ‘most important’ part of the information.

“Yes, Ani, my brother.” He said. Anakin frowned.

“But you do not have a brother.”

“I do. His name is Owen.” Obi-Wan admitted and Anakin’s shocked face was priceless. “But I was not talking about him.” Anakin opened his mouth to ask but a pointed look from Obi-Wan of fond annoyance made its job. His mouth shut with a click and he stared at Obi-Wan like he had never seen him before. Too many emotions flickered through their bond.

Shock. Joy. Fear. Fondness. Anger. Love.

Obi-Wan wordlessly opened his arms in invitation. Anakin lunged himself forward without a second thought. They both held tight. Whispered apologies, pleas and confessions flew over their bond back and forth. Distantly, Obi-Wan noted that Quinlan had joined the hug too.

Someone cleared their throat. Twice. Loudly.

Obi-Wan peeked above Anakin’s head and was met with Master Windu’s and Master Ki-Adi-Mundi’s disapproving faces. “Knight Vos, Padawan Skywalker.” Mace said tiredly. “Please release Kni- Mas- ugh, Kenobi, why is it always you?” He complained rubbing his temple.

Obi-Wan shrugged, standing up with Quinlan’s help. He was already tired. Bant would kill him.

Master Windu sighed. “Let’s get back to the situation in hand.” He suggested. “What can you tell us? What should we change?” Master Billaba turned on her datapad, ready to type everything down.

“Well…” Obi-Wan paused, trying to decide that should be told first. His gaze fell on Anakin, who wrapped Obi-Wan’s arm around his own shoulders and gave no indication that he would let him go any time soon. A smile tugged Obi-Wan’s lips up. The elusive fragments of the dream he had seen earlier in the day caught his attention. “We need to change our way of following the Code.” He said without thinking too much.

Master Windu stared at him. “What.” Plo Koon rested his chin on his intertwined fingers, radiating curiosity

Anakin froze under his arm, barely daring to breathe. Obi-Wan slowly looked at each present Master in the Chamber. He settled his gaze on Anakin. “Tell me, Padawan mine, why do we forbid attachments?” The teen frowned.

“Because it leads to the Dark side.” He answered quickly. Obi-Wan nodded.

“And why is it bad?” Anakin stared at him like he was wondering if his Master was mad. “Humor me.” Obi-Wan prompted.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Because Darksiders are evil.”

“Why?” Now Anakin looked like he wanted to hit him.

“Master Kenobi, what are you trying to say?” Master Depa interrupted.

Obi-Wan sent a small amount of fondness to Anakin and turned to the Jedi. “I am trying to show you that we got confused in our own teaching and are now confusing the Padawans.” He explained, his tone shifting to the one he often used while lecturing without his notice and Anakin groaned beside him. “If you ask any of the Younglings what the Dark side of the force is, they will tell you that it is Evil.” Obi-Wan cocked his head. “They will tell you that they will never Fall, not wanting to become evil.”

“Your point?” Master Windu sighed.

Obi-Wan ignored the comment. “We scare them with Falling as if it’s a deadly disease. It doesn’t help that Fallen Jedi are expected to kill themselves or be killed.” He looked at Master Yoda. “Am I wrong?”

Yoda’s ears twitched. “Correct you are.”

“But our Code assumes forgiveness. Why don’t we help our Fallen brothers? Why do we give up hope that they will return to the Light?” Obi-Wan asked without expecting an answer.

“Because they are too dangerous to be left alive.” Master Windu replied.

“And we aren't dangerous?” Obi-Wan objected. “As one of my friends said: ‘The Jedi are trained fighters with glowing sticks of death and the ability to manipulate a person’s mind.’ And you tell me it does not sound dangerous?”

“But it is not true.” Master Billaba argued, frowning.

Obi-Wan shrugged. “This is the opinion of most people in the Galaxy. And this is also a problem. We are so closed off from others that they simply do not have the opportunity to learn what it really means to be a Jedi.”

“But Darksiders are unpredictable and seek to destroy everything around them or seize as much power as possible.” Someone pointed out.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Not every Darksider is evil, just like not every Lightsider is good. It does not matter which side of the Force you use. Only your actions.” He sighed.

“How can a Darksider can be good?” Anakin asked, incredulous.

Obi-Wan smiled sadly. “Everyone can Fall, Ani. Some Fall to gain power, some because they want to get revenge.” His gaze locked with Anakin’s. “And some Fall to protect their loved ones.” Anakin paled drastically, gulping. “But is a rare case. That’s why most Darksiders are considered evil.”

Suddenly, the Chamber blurred. An image of young man with dark blond hair, blue eyes and a scar on his face flashed through Obi-Wan’s mind. The man was blue and spirit-like. He was smiling. Obi-Wan heard him whisper: ‘Thank you’ before vanishing.

His vision cleared. His soul was singing. A joyous smile tugging his lips upwards. “And even if you Fell you can always find your way back to Light.” Obi-Wan said quietly. He looked up at the Council. “I’ve seen it. And even helped one of the formers Fallen to readjust.” He very carefully kept his gaze away from Quinlan. In his mind eye he could see the Kiffar with sickly yellow eyes and bright red blade. He saw him down on his knees, crying. He saw him happy and with Light once again. Obi-Wan shook his head. “They just need love.”

Master Koon cocked his head. “Love?” He asked, surprised.

Obi-Wan nodded. “Everyone needs love. It is the foundation of all foundations. What is there to fight for but love?” The Masters seemed fascinated by his speech. “Again, this is a problem. The Jedi are not supposed to show our emotions and discouraged from acting on them. Even in the company of our friends. Our relationship with our Padawans is strictly professional and in no way familial. But according to the ancient scrolls, this was not always the case. The Jedi brought love for every living being, compassion for the suffering and justice to the Galaxy. Lineages were more like families and if someone Fell the entire Order tried to help them and only if the individual refused to change and was dangerous, they were killed. We were more alive, people trusted us. Can you say the same about the present?”

Plo Koon sadly shook his head. “You are right, Master Kenobi. We are far too strict.”

“But we are discouraged from being overly emotional for a reason and you know it perfectly well.” Master Windu butted in. “ _There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force._ The Code was written to prevent Force-sensitive from destroying everything around them.”

“And yet we teach another version to the Younglings. _Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force_.” Obi-Wan objected. “The Code can be understood differently, you know it. We’ve had countless debates over it. But it does not tell us not to be emotional. Or not to love.”

Master Windu grit his teeth. “If we allow Jedi to be more emotional and make families it will make them more vulnerable. More inclined to Fall.”

“Life is never easy.” Obi-Wan replied simply, quoting himself. “And the way of the Jedi is not easy either. But we can change that.” He ignored everyone else and focused on Mace. “I have seen the Sith return to the Light side to save his son.” Quinlan swore behind him, astonished. “Love can work miracles. It brings strength in the darkest times. It is the best motivator. You cannot get the same result if you live out of duty.”

Master Plo, Master Yaddle and Master Billaba nodded in agreement. Master Koth and Master Tiin looked thoughtful. Master Yoda had his eyes shut, frowning. Master Windu glared.

“What is your suggestion?” He all but spat, giving up.

“The Jedi need to stop hiding their emotions all the time. While that skill can come in handy, it does more damage than one might think.” Obi-Wan stroke his beard thoughtfully and hummed. “You should make an announcement that the Order is returning to the old ways due to their efficiency and benefits to the overall Jedi mental state. There would be objections of course, but it will be a good start.”

Master Windu nodded tersely. “What else?”

Obi-Wan bit his lower lip. This one would be harder. He took a calming breath. “We should relocate our main Temple.”

Master Billaba frowned. A wave of confusion passed through the Force. “Why? Is there something wrong with the Temple?”

“No.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “Merely its location. By living in the center of the Republic we all but declare our loyalty to it over the rest of the Galaxy.” He explained tiredly.

“But the Republic-”

“Our duty is not only to the Republic but to the entire Galaxy.” Obi-Wan cut off. “We are supposed to be neutral so we can resolve conflicts unbiasedly.” He paused to let his words sink. “In recent years, the Senate has been controlling us more and more. We are no longer independent. We are the Senate’s weapon.”

“Obi-Wan.” Master Windu drawled in warning. But it would hardly stop him now.

“Do not you see it? We have less control over our own missions than we ever had. We cannot even sneeze without the Senate knowing!” It was getting harder to stay calm. Quinlan sensed his unease and wrapped him in his own shields. Obi-Wan nodded in gratitude. “I know that we are tied to Republic. But with the support of our Corps we can move the Temple and even accept more Initiates.”

“Have thought a lot you about it, hmmm.” Yoda said, not asking but stating. Obi-Wan chuckled helplessly.

“I had all time in the world.”

Depa Billaba shifted in her seat, typing furiously. “Alright, I got this. What next?” She questioned eagerly; eyes alight.

Obi-Wan his hands in his sleeves. “The rule about acceptance of the Initiates to the Temple.” Depa raised an eyebrow.

“What of it?”

With a flick of his wrist, Obi-Wan activated his holo-comm. It showed a young smiling Zabrak, perhaps in his teens. His skin was yellow, eyes purple. “This is Zur. He was thirteen. And he was Force-sensitive.”

“Was?” Master Plo frowned. Obi-Wan nodded gravely.

“He was working with his father in their family cantina. The ceiling fell. Zur tried to hold it, to give people some time to escape. But he had pushed too far and broke the bearing wall. The building fell like a card house, burying all those who were in it at that time.”

The image changed. This time it was a young serious humanoid woman in her early twenties. She was dressed in a pilot uniform, expression grim. “Sireya Yaru. She was twenty-three. She had unexpectedly discovered her Force-sensitivity during the pirates’ attack. She had accidentally blown up the ship’s generator.”

Click.

“Piv Treso. Fifteen. Had spooken a herd of banthas.”

Click.

“Mireya Liss. Thirty-one. Had jumped too high.”

Click.

“Quero Kaas. Nineteen.”

Click.

“Orla Pire. Twenty-eight.”

Click.

Click.

Click.

Obi-Wan could almost taste the sadness and grief on the tip of his tongue.

After the last image flickered out Obi-Wan addressed the Council. “They all needed our help. But could not come and ask for it.” Master Yaddle’s ears fell. “Once, the Jedi accepted all Force-sensitive, no matter the age. I know it is much harder to train someone like them, Force knows, for some reason it decided that my only two Padawans will be special in that way.” Obi-Wan grumbled good-naturally. Anakin narrowed his eyes suspiciously, not knowing how to react since he did not understand if it was a praise or a teasing jab.

Master Windu frowned. “Only two? Why so few? You are an excellent Jedi.” He asked, baffled. The others shared his confusion. Obi-Wan shifted, taking his weight off his numb leg. Force, he was too old (not really) for this.

“Extraordinary circumstances.” He replied with a smile.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Plo Koon murmured, “who was your second Padawan? And if I understood you correctly, he was also quite older than usual. Why take him?”

A sly smirk slowly appeared on Obi-Wan’s face. It was going to be absolutely priceless.

*I need you to record that.* He sent to Quin, receiving a flinch of surprise followed by affirmation.

Obi-Wan straightened up. “I do not mind, Master Plo. And you are correct. My second Padawan was older. I started teaching him when he was nineteen.” A ripple of surprise passed across the room. Obi-Wan continued: “It was not possible to start his trainings earlier but it must be done. He was very strong in the Force, even stronger than Anakin.” Anakin’s mind shorted. Obi-Wan patted his shoulder. “He was kind, a little naive and very loyal, just like his father. He also was the one who believed that there was a way to bring the Fallen back to the Light. And he had found it.” Here, Obi-Wan paused, trying to decide how much he should say. The Force pushed him slightly. He only hoped that it won’t backfire. “He had brought the Sith Lord back on the Light side.”

“How?” Depa whispered.

“Love.” Obi-Wan said. “He loved his father and sister. His friends and the entire Galaxy. He heard the whispered promises of the Dark side and found them unappealing. He had just brushed it off, like an annoying bug.” Obi-Wan laughed, remembering Luke’s face with a fond smile. His grimace was hilarious, he looked like he had smelled something spoiled. “He was truly one of his kind. Took after his parents.”

“Who was he?” Masters’ curiosity was tingling in the air.

Obi-Wan smiled and dropped the bombshell.

“His name was Luke Skywalker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this idea in my head for some time about permanently tired space dad Obi-Wan. He just keeps adopting kids randomly and can't (and does not want to) stop. The first one is, of course, Luke. Obi-Wan just stared at little Luke for two hours and couldn't give him to some unknown people. But of course nothing is easy if you're with Skywalker...


	4. Four – Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cody sulks and finally gets his well-deserved hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here I am, with update and all. What a miracle.

It’s been three days.

Three horrifyingly long days, filled with training sessions, lessons and not actually talks with the _Vod’e_. Cody was ready to grab a couple of blasters and start a riot.

Every time a trainer was needlessly cruel, gave them impossible tasks and treated them like slaves, Cody internally seethed. He reminded himself to keep calm, to not react to provocations. He stopped himself from leaping on _Be’vod’e_ defense even when his whole being screamed at him to rip the scum into tiny pieces. He clenched his teeth, bailed his fists and kept on his most blank expression while watching _vod_ getting punished or reprimanded.

He had forgotten how awful the Kamino was. Certain details which did not seem so bad in his first life (since he did not know better) turned out to be crimes against sentient beings. Only yesterday he had talked the trainer out of sending a _vod_ to decommissioning _only_ for not being able to dismantle a blaster fast enough. And this morning he had found a crying _vod_ hiding in the showers, afraid he would be culled because he had a kriffing cold! If his General ever saw something like that at any Mid Rim planet or even at the Outer Rim he would have destroyed everything, swept the civilians to safety and dropped a secret message to Ohnaka and when pretended he did not know why the criminals happened to end up in the worst Outer Rim’s prison. Not that he did such a thing often, Cody remembered it happen only once, but the General knew the Judicial Department had their hands full with war effort and did not have time to take care of the criminals. But those scum needed to be dealt with, they were too dangerous and sadistic to let them go. And Ohnaka was very good at misplacing the worst of the Galaxy.

At first none of the _Vod’e_ understood their new reality. They were used to the fact that no one ever considered their opinion, no one wanted to know them and all that the others cared about was their effectiveness. The Jedi were like a gulp of fresh air. Cody would never forget Gree’s excited call after his General showed him her library and told him he was free to use it every time he felt like it. Or the rumor (which was not rumor at all) about General Kit Fisto teaching his troopers to cook some native Nautolan dish. The naked awe in the shinies’ eyes after they met General Shaak Tii for the first time. Sure, some _Jetiise_ were more friendly than others but they all kept their relationships with the _Vod’e_ at least professional. And even beyond that. How many times did Cody hear Wolffe call General Koon his father in Kel Dorian (don't ask Cody to repeat the actual word. He can understand the language just fine, thanks to General Kenobi but he would not speak it to save his life) while absolutely and deeply screwed? Or listened to Bly's drunken bubbling about how Ayala was the most magnificent being in the entire Galaxy?

It still took some time to get used to the new treatment, to the thought that maybe, just _maybe_ they deserved something good too. To stop acting like a well programmed droid and start acting like a human. Cody remembered how his General’s eyes always turned sad when one of the newly arrived shinies shrank back away from him in fear, believing that they would be sent back to Kamino for some minor mistake. (Once, General had to calm down a sobbing _vod_ who was terrified of punishment for telling a crude joke. General Kenobi was miserable for weeks after this particular incident. Not that anyone other than a couple of his closest troopers noticed. He was too good at masking his emotions.) The _Jetiise_ had treated them with kindness, they endured the worst shoulder to shoulder with the _Vod’e_ , they had _cared_ about them.

Cody held back a snort at that thought, doing push-ups with practiced ease. (Although it had taken longer than Cody liked to get used to his new body but he was nothing If not persistent) The longnecks certainly did not care about that little aspect, neither did the trainers nor Fett. They were just clones for them. Nothing more, certainly not people.

Cody swiftly leaped up, immediately starting running. The training session was going to end soon and he would have to take over his shift of an observer. The previous night was not really interesting. So far, he was dutifully patrolling, in case someone was watching him. But soon he would try to get himself a comm. Maybe slip into a lab or two. Search for something useful. If he was careful no one would ever know he was where. If the Force willing, maybe he would find a cure for their accelerating aging?

He shook his head. It was just wishful thinking. Why would the longnecks bother with finding a way to make them live longer? Cody mindlessly moved after his squad toward the showers. It took them all fifteen minutes to get cleaned and dressed and they were marching back to their barracks.

Cody sat down on his bunk, watching the _vod’e_ around him idly. Some were chatting and a few were groaning, rubbing aching muscles. A burst of laugher sounded on his right but Cody did not move to join the group. It felt like he was impersonating, which was ludicrous (yes, Rex, a big word, ha ha) since he still was himself. And yet, every time he tried to join any conversation he had found himself at a loss of what to say. Sure, he was able to made up a small talk, he had watched the General talk his way through enough political meetings to not pick up anything. But it was just that. Only unimportant chat about a hard training session, some rumor about the Alpha squad or hushed speculations about what would await them in the Galaxy. Every time one of the _Vod’e_ spoke about their dreams of future with bright eyes and hope burning deep in their heart Cody wanted to sweep them all into a huge space ship and fly as fast as was possible toward the nearest Jedi Temple.

He had to stop himself from telling his _vod’e_ about the caring _Jetiise_ , about the horrors of war, about the terrible end. He had to keep this knowledge hidden. Cody had to grit his teeth and push through his own desire to really talk to someone without pretending to be someone else. It frustrated him to no end. He did not need to talk to someone in the past. During the war he had to keep his distance from the others due to his rank. It was hard, but Cody had managed. He had been capable of resolving all his problems without involving another party. And if he was not, Rex (or one of his batchmates, it depended on who was the closest at the moment)came after him with a bottle of Corellian whiskey he swore he did not get from General Kenobi (he totally did, the lying bastard) and they would get drank until Cody relaxed.

_(And if sometimes, then everything seemed to be falling apart, he had sat in the General Kenobi’s quarters, silently filling up the paperwork and drinking tea, well, no one said a word.)_

But now something in him just yearned fiercely for that easy comradeship, for a reliable companion, for a trusted friend, someone to share his burdens with. But no one was here. And Cody had never felt lonelier. One would think that the Death Star was worse but he barely felt like a real person there. He did not care about anything other than the order he was given at the time. And now, surrounded by people he knew since the moment he was decanted he felt isolated, like he was alone in a small boat in the middle of a stormy ocean.

Sighing, Cody stood up, straightened his clothes and walked out of the room. He noticed a few concerned glances his batchmates sent after him. Wolffe’s heavy gaze was almost physical on his back. Ponds and Gree were whispering furiously watching him with worried eyes. Something in Cody perked up at that. They had noticed that he felt down. And they clearly had a few choice words to say about it. He left the room with a small smile in the corner of his mouth.

***

The first hour of his watch was uneventful. Cody walked down the East halls, humming some song about Twi’lek’s far too sensitive lekku that _was not_ on their head. He must have heard it from Gregor and Gearshift. These two scoundrels had no shame. They sang it once in front of Skywalker, General Koon and General Kenobi. Skywalker had joined them during the second verse, singing loudly and off-tune, General Koon seemed more amused than put out and their own General looked fondly annoyed. An expression he had often used in the presence of his former Padawan.

A tip of Cody’s lip quirked up at the memory as he rounded the corner only to stop dead on his tracks at the sound of voices, foot hovering inches above the floor. He strained his ears to pick up the words.

“I don’t understand, Boil, what are you talking about?” A frantic whisper reached Cody. His breath hitched, eyes widening in shock.

He heard a hiccup. “We- we shoot him. He fell. We’ve **_killed_** our General, _vod!_ He is dead because of us!” A second voice nearly shouted. Cody’s heart threatened to burst out of his chest. He did not dare to believe his ears.

“No, no,” the first voice audibly shook, “it must be some kind of mistake…” the speaker trailed off.

A sniffle and a chocked bitter laugh. “We’ve killed him. And then everything fell apart…” The voice was filled with grief and anger. Cody heard a yelp and a sound like someone had hit the wall.

“Stop that, you dolt! You’ll get hurt!” The first voice snapped and Cody decided that he had heard enough.

He stepped into the corridor and immediately drew attention of the two _vod’e_ sitting there.

One was leaning onto the wall, cross-legged. His face was red with tears and fury. Cody watched his posture subtly change into the fighting stance as he took Cody in. The _vod_ was ready to pounce at the first sight of a threat.

The second _vod_ was frozen in more uncomfortable position. He was on his knees in front of the first _vod_ , holding his bloody hand. Lips slightly parted, eyes wide as he stared at Cody. He looked like he was scrambling his brain for some kind of passible lie. Cody raised an eyebrow. A very Kenobi move. If those two were who he thought they were, they should get it.

“And what are you doing here after the curfew?” He asked, tone calm and firm but with a hint of amusement in it. He had used it only in times like when he had caught Wooley and Crys sneaking into the 501st camp with a dozen spray cans of orange paint. But the two in front of him did not seem to catch it.

“Uh, we, um. I-” The second _vod_ stuttered, trying to come up with at least something other than syllables. The first _vod_ glared at Cody, silent. “Oh, right, Boil here was sleepwalking and I went after him to get him back!” The _vod_ finally said in a rush and the first _vod_ groaned. He gave him a confused look. Cody held back his smile.

He shook his head, folding his hands behind his back. “And that’s the best lie you can think of?” The _vod’e_ froze again. Cody ignored the pang of pain it had sent through his chest. He cocked his head. “The General taught us better.” He said in mock disappointment.

Waxer’s (and Cody was damn sure it was him) eyes went even more wide and his jaw dropped. “C-commander Cody?” He asked hesitantly, a flicker of hope flashing in his eyes. Boil had gone alarmingly still, tracking Cody’s every move. Cody relaxed his stance, falling back into the familiar (and comforting) role of the Commander of the 212th attack battalion. These two were his men, his most trusted _vod’e_. And of course they have noticed the shift and unconsciously reacted, coming to attention.

Cody smiled. “Lieutenant Waxer.” He nodded at the vod and shifted his gaze to Boil. “Sergeant Boil.” He greeted and a moment later a small body barreled into him. Cody automatically wrapped his arms around shaking Waxer, looking down at him in alarm.

“I- we- commander-” Waxer hiccupped, trying to speak through the tears, his voice muffled by the way he had pressed his face into Cody’s shoulder. Cody ran his hand through Waxer’s hair (which was weird) in attempt to calm him down a little. He chanced a glance at Boil and found him sitting in the same place, with a carefully blank expression that did not bode well for Cody.

Frowning, Cody gently shifted Waxer in his grip and walked closer to Boil. He lowered himself next to Boil and pulled the crying Waxer down to sit on his other side. Cody held out his free arm in a silent invitation. Boil stared emptily at him for a beat. A moment later Cody had a lapful of two crying _vod’e_. He said nothing, holding them closer, rubbing their backs.

Touch always was the best solution when one of the _vod’e_ was distraught. Kix once said that it was because they all were touch-starved and lapsed into a rant with a lot of medical terms no one but him really understood. Cody gathered the important part – touch was important for humanoid species and it helped to solve some of their problems. It stabilized one’s mental health, made a person feel happier and loved. But for the Vod’e who did not have anything touch meant connection, comfort, trust and most importantly – safety.

Waxer gripped Cody’s shirt in his fists tightly. He had tucked his head into the left side of Cody’s neck, Boil mirrored his position. They were clinging to each over, as if afraid that if they let go their vod’e would disappear. Cody held them with the same strength, desperately trying to keep tears at bay.

To distract himself and his men Cody cleared his throat and asked quietly: “What happened?”

Waxer sniffled, stiffening. “I- I think I died?” He offered, unsure, sounding terrified and lost. It was so strange to see Waxer like this. He looked like a confused child. _‘But he is a child now.’_ Cody was quick to push that particular thought away to deal with it later. His _vod’e_ needed him now.

Cody hummed encouragingly, calmingly rubbing Waxer’s back. Waxer sucked in a wheezy breath and continued in a shaky tone. “Last thing I remember is a flash of a blaster bolt and awfully horrible pain…” He fell silent. Cody clenched his jaw in anger and pain, tugging his vod closer. Waxer easily went, wounding his arms around Cody’s waist. “…when I woke up in my bed and for a moment I was confused. I could not understand where I was or why. And I think there was some phantom pain?” He gestured at his chest with his hand and dropped it tiredly on his lap. “And then I heard a gasp and a thud and it turned out to be Boil, who fell from his bed. I went to help, but he pushed me away, saying something about not being worthy of being here and rushed away from the room and I ran after him and-”

 _“Udesii, vod.”_ Cody murmured, interrupting Waxer’s rushed excplaination. _“Haalur, o'r bal dayn.”_ He instructed, listening with bated breath as Waxer did as he was told. Boil was still silent at his side and it was starting to worry Cody. So he called in a soft low voice he had heard the General use so often: _“Boil? Vod, jorhaa'ir at ni.”_

Boil made a high-pitched wounded sound and the floodgates broke. He hid him face in Cody’s neck, trembling violently and mumbled over and over again. “I’ve killed them, killed them all. They did not deserve it. They did not.” Cody shared a glance with a very confused Waxer, who looked at Boil with so much pain in his gaze. He clearly wanted to help soothe him, the two of them have been best friends since forever but something must have told him that this Boil was very different from the one he knew. And he did not know what to do with it. Just like Cody’s batchmates. The only difference was that they did not remember anything at all. And Waxer just did not live long enough to see the atrocity of the Empire. Cody suppressed a shudder at the thought. This time would be different. Waxer would survive and live damn long to have wrinkles all over his face, cracking knees and a small house on the coast on some sunny planet or Cody would throttle him himself.

He turned his attention back at the shaking Boil. He tightened his hold, dropping his chin on top of his head and hummed a little. A quiet tune came easily and after dreadfully long twenty minutes some of Boil’s trembles subdued. He still did not move, clinging to Cody like a stubborn vine. Waxer carefully draped himself over Cody’s side, obviously seeking more comfort but not wanting to disturb them. Cody just slid his arm around his shoulders and drew him in a hug.

“Why did we do it?” Boil whispered hoarsely after some time, his tone lifeless and broken.

Cody made an inquiring noise. “I do not know, _vod_.” He answered just as quietly. Waxer looked between them with puzzlement, not following the topic of their conversation. And Cody could not find enough strength in himself to tell him the truth. That Boil was asking why they so readily shoot their beloved General. Why they had followed the orders that required them to slaughter entire towns of innocent civilians under the disguise of purging out the traitors. Why they had hunted down every Force-sensitive person and even those who were only suspected to be such and killed them without any mercy. Cody closed his eyes, memories flashed behind the closed lids. He inhaled slowly, letting go of his pain and anger, focusing on Boil who snorted bitterly.

“That’s what I thought.” He croaked out and Waxer winced at his raw voice. Cody could not quite hold a snort that escaped him. He was familiar with that Boil and that meant he was feeling better. Not by much but Cody still counted it as a win. Boil sighed into his neck and shifted a little to glance up at him, a frown on his face. “So, that’s the afterlife? Don’t think me ungrateful but if it is then it’s a pretty shitty one.” He groused and it startled a snort out of Waxer. Cody shook his head.

“I also assumed so at first. But then...” Cody paused, trying to find the right words. He sighed, dipping his head back to stare at the white ceiling. “This may sound strange but I think we're in the past.” Waxer and Boil gave him twin looks of skepticism. Cody raised an eyebrow back at them. Boil sighed long-sufferingly.

“Weird Force _osik?_ ” He asked, despite already knowing the answer. Cody nodded anyway.

“Weird Force _osik_.”

“Fine. I can live with-” Boil started only to cut himself off. He slowly leaned back to look Cody in the face properly. His eyes narrowed. “How far in the past?” He demanded.

Cody frowned a bit. That was a tricky question. “By my estimate my batch is around four or five years old. Which means it must be either 28th or 27th BBY.” Waxer looked dazed by the information, frowning at unfamiliar numbers but Boil adopted that determined look that meant trouble for their enemies and headache for Cody and medics.

“He is still alive. The General is still alive!” He whispered to no one in particular staring right at Cody and not seeing him. “We can fix it.” Then he shook himself out of the daze and a small flicker of hope appeared in his eyes. “We can save the _Vod’e_ and the _Jetiise_.”

“What do you mean?” Waxer cut in, fed up with the situation of not understanding a damn thing. He glared at his vod’e, ready to fight them to get the answers. He crossed his arms and stared at them with a scowl with vaguely resembled Wolffe’s daily face. “What in the Sith hell happened after I di-” He stuttered as he noticed Boil’s flinch and Cody’s shoulders tense up. “After I was gone.” He amended awkwardly but did not back down.

Boil curled a little into himself and Cody. It was quite a telling sign that he would not be the one talking. Cody signed, cradling his hand through Biol hair absently. He looked Waxer straight into the eyes and simply said: “The Sith won.”

Waxer froze like a tooka in flashlight. “We lost?” He murmured in a small disbelieving tone. “How?” His eyes were full of unshed tears by this point but he refused to let them fell. Cody sighed, squeezing Boil’s shoulder as a silent apology.

“We did not lose.” He told Waxer, making him gave him a look that asked if he had a concussion. Cody ignored it and continued: “The Jedi did. They had been revealed as traitors right at the end of the war.” He did not let Waxer say that he had in mind, judging by the furious set of his jaw he did not believe Cody’s words. “We were ordered to get rid of them. Kill on sight. No one disobeyed. No one questioned the order.” He said lifelessly, like he was just reciting a mission debrief. Waxer fell silent hanging on every word and Boil tried to make himself smaller as if it could hide him from the memories.

“And then Senator Palpatine declared the Republic corrupted. He dismantled it. And the Empire rose from its ashes.” Cody could remember his own joy at the moment when the Sith proclaimed the war over. Now the mere memory of it made him sick. “The GAR was disbanded. The _Vod’e_ became stormtroopers. And we were proud of it.” Cody laughed ruefully. “We served under the command of a Sith who we were created to fight.”

He stopped there, feeling anger flow in his veins. He took a calming breath. “Our new armor was stark white, bare from any personal touch. It was of a terrible quality, the HUD was working with glitches which made it hard to see and aim.” Cody paused, biting the inside of his cheek. “We were not using our names anymore. We did not talk to each other, did not care if one of us was injured or died. Our minds were set only on following orders.” Waxer was watching him with muted horror, mouth agape. Cody chuckled humorlessly. “Good soldiers follow orders.” The phrase came out of nowhere but rang clear and loud through Cody’s buzzing brain. “We became flesh droids and I do not have a slightest idea why.”

Waxer slowly lowered his gaze at Boil. “You shoot him… you said you shoot him.” He licked his lips, realization downing at him. “Oh, stars.” He whimpered and finally let the tears fall.

Cody did not hesitate and dragged Waxer onto his lap. It was a little uncomfortable position but they did not care. Cody just held his _vod’e_ as they fell apart.

“He did not die there.” He rasped, felling them stiffen under his arms. Encouraged by their attention he continued: “I saw him again on the Death Star, almost twenty years after Utapau.” He flinched hard at the unexpected sound of Boil’s sharp laugh.

“I knew it! The General is too much of a slippery bastard to die from falling down the cliff.” He cackled, cheering until he’s breathless and was not able to make another sound. He whizzed a bit, tears of mirth running down his face. “Kriff, we should have known. That clasterfuck with Hardeen clearly showed us his ability to be alive despite everyone’s belief.”

Cody shuddered at the reminder. The unnatural silence that settled over _The_ _Negotiator_ for weeks. The thick cloud of grief that hung in the recycled air seemed almost material. Shinies cried right in the halls, not caring about who saw them. The older _vod’e_ fared little better. They simply pushed themselves through chores, not leaving a single free moment to think about the General too much, lest they broke down too.

Skywalker’s empty red eyes. He had blamed himself for everything. (At the time Cody did too. It was much easier than dealing with his own guilt of not being there for his General than he needed him the most, his own soul that shattered into thousand small pieces.)

Tano’s miserable hunched posture. She had tried so hard to look strong. She did not succeed.

The way all 212th _vod’e_ had choke on Kenobi’s name during the daily remembrance. They even considered asking to be allowed to visit the Jedi Monument on New Holstice to honor his death properly.

And then the General came back.

He was dumbstruck then Boil slapped his shoulder in greeting, actually smiling for once. Wooley even asked for permission to hug him. General Kenobi nodded, a little dazed. He was assaulted by several other troopers moments later.

After an hour, he gathered them all in the hangar bay and explained the situation. He told them all about his task and apologized for the pain he had unwillingly caused.

 _‘I know it might take some time to process.’_ He said calmly. _‘If you need to talk, my doors are always open for you.’_

The General paused, gathering his thoughts. _‘And I will understand if any of you will want to be transferred to a different battalion.’_ He offered softly. Everyone could see how much the words pained him. But he still said them without hesitation, disregarding his own feelings for their sake.

He was far too used to being left behind by people he cared about. Cody was so furious by that, he was tempted to beat some sence into his self-sacrificing _di’kut_ of a _jetii_. The _Vod’e_ knew all too well that the duty was the most important thing for the _Jetiise_. They were dedicated to the people of the Galaxy and would do everything in their power to help them. The _Vod’e_ understood and respected their devotion. They would never turn their backs on the General for saving people, even if it meant that their feelings got hurt. If only he could realize it as well.

Not a single _vod_ had requested transferring.

“Cody…” Waxer called, unsure. He bit his lower lip, worrying it between his teeth. Then he seemed to reach some decision. “How did he look like?” He asked, curiosity lacing his tone.

Cody did not expect to hear his name from Waxer. It was eerily, hearing someone call him by it after twenty years. But the question was even more surprising. Cody tried to recall the face he had seen through the flickering HUD.

“He looked… older.” Boil snorted and Waxer shoved him playfully. Cody rolled his eyes. “He still had a beard. His hair was gray, he had more wrinkles on his face… and he looked at peace when Vader killed him.”

Boil jumped at the last bit with an uncredulous ‘WHAT?’ and was shushed by both Waxer and Cody. The three _vod’e_ froze, waiting for the longnecks or trainers to appear and punish them. When none came, they relaxed a little. Boil rounded back on Cody and whispered ferociously: “What?”

“I don’t follow, who’s Vader?” Waxer asked in turn, gaze shifting from Cody at Boil and back at Cody.

Oh, no. _This_ was an uncomfortable question.

Cody pondered for a bit how to tell this part. Deep down he was glad that it was not Rex who asked.

Sighing, Cody rubbed his forehead, now used to the fact that the scar was not there. “Darth Vader was a Sith Lord, the apprentice of Darth Sidious. He was the most powerful Force user.”

Waxer shook his head. “I don’t remember any Vader. Dooku, Ventress, Grievous and Maul I know.” He mused, brows furrowing. “Or was he hiding his identity like Sidious?” Cody closed his eyes.

“Sidious is Palpatine.” Boil spat out angrily. Waxer’s gawked at him. “He revealed himself after the end of the war. The **koyi** had fooled the whole Galaxy.” He growled, not even noticing that he had sipped to **Ryl**. “But I don’t know who’s Vader. He always wore helmet and armor.”

“It was Skywalker.” Cody whispered so low, he was not sure they heard him. But he was proven wrong when two heads whipped around to stare at him in horror.

“WHAT?”

This time Waxer joined Boil in his exclamation. Cody winced, giving the pair his best Commander glare. They retreated a little.

“As I was saying,” he whispered, “I was assigned to serve on the Death Star. And Vader visited us often.” Cody gulped, remembering the terror that engulfed every person on the ship then Vader passed by. Only Cody did not fear. He just did not care about his own live to be afraid. “And I recognized him.” He fell silent, memories swallowed him whole.

“The General and Vader were fighting. I was too far to hear what they were saying but I saw everything.” He murmured, staring into the distance. “Vader had killed him. But it was the General’s choice.” Two set of baffled eyes stared at him. Cody huffed fondly. “You remember that bow the jetii did after sparring? Well, our wise, experienced General just decided to do it in the middle of the duel with Vader and would have gotten himself cut in a half if he did not disappear.” Waxer hummed, perplexed.

“So, he did not die?” Cody shook his head.

“He did. Just not like a normal person. You know how General is – go big or go home.” Boil snorted, mumbling something sounding like ‘drama queen’ under his breath. Cody was inclined to agree. “There was no body. Only a set of Jedi robes and his lightsaber on the floor. I got killed right after that so I don’t know if there was something else.” At the mention of his fate Boil and Waxer shuddered.

No one said anything for a long while.

Finally, Boil groaned. “My head is killing me. Where’s Threepwood when you need him?” He grumbled, rubbing his temple.

Cody snorted, re-adjusting his position on the floor. “I wish I had a holo-camera. The future generations absolutely must see the moment the great, fearsome Boil freely admitted his need for a medic.” He teased.

Boil narrowed his eyes and shoved Cody in the shoulder. “Bugger off, you moron.” Code fell on the floor, snickering. Boil cried in faux outrage and lunged at him. They wrestled playfully until Waxer’s voice interrupted them:

“How can you be so calm?” He questioned, sounding lost. “You have just woken up twenty years in the past after you had kriffing _died_ and you want me to believe that I am the only one whose head is spinning from all this situation?” He asked incredulously, arms flying up to emphasize his point.

Boil shrugged sheepishly. Cody let go of his arm, dropping his head on the floor. “To be fair, I had three days to think about it.” He looked up at Waxer. “And you’re doing much better than me.” Boil made an inquiring sound, asking Cody to elaborate. “I had a panic attack and tried to strangle Gree.” Cody admitted with a long-suffering sigh.

“Wow…” Waxer murmured. “So, if you woke up three days ago,” he started tentatively, “and we woke up today… does it mean where are more _vod’e_ who remember?” He wondered, looking at Cody for answer.

Cody lowered his eyes. “I don’t know. Did not think about it, to be honest.” He confessed.

“What _did_ you think about?” Boil nudged him with his foot. Cody batted him away. “No, really. I'm willing to bet my right hand that you have a plan. Go ahead and tell me.” He ordered, crossing his arms and leaning back onto the wall.

Cody rolled his eyes. “My plan is to find out more. I do not know why or how we ended up here.” He pointed out. Waxer frowned, considering. Boil – the absolute jackass – only arched an eyebrow. “I can’t be sure of anything until I know more.” Cody insisted.

“So, we just snoop around until the come across something?” Waxer concluded.

Cody shook his head. “I will be searching. You two lay low.” He cut them off with a glare before they could start protesting. “I have a reason to be in the halls after curfew. You two don’t.”

Boil bristled. “And what’s your excuse?”

Cody grinned ferally. “I am an observer.” He announced, keeping his face straight and blank.

Waxer shook his head. “No way. You joined those assholes?”

“It is a pretty convenient position in our situation.” Cody argued just for the sake of arguing. “Speaking of which, we should get going. It’s late.” He said worriedly.

Reluctantly, the _vod’e_ stood up and carefully sneaked toward Waxer and Boil’s barracks. They stood in front of the door. Cody gave them the last instructions.

“Keep your ears open. Maybe someone else will remember as well. We also need access to the Net and a comm.” Waxer and Boil nodded. Cody held back the urge to say ‘dismissed’ and salute. The two rascals clearly did not share his concern.

They straightened up, saluted and said in unison: “Sir, yes, sir.” Twin smug smirks appeared on their faces. Then they dropped down their hands and Waxer stepped forward to hug Cody.

“G’d night, Commander.” He mumbled in Cody’s shoulder. Cody patted his back, too stunned to react differently. Waxer let him go with a yawn and Boil took his place.

“Sweet dreams. Try to not get yourself killed.” Cody rolled his eyes.

“Night, _vod’e_.”

Waxer and Boil disappeared behind the door with a wave of Waxer’s hand. Cody slowly turned around and started walking toward his own room, lost in thoughts. He did not register a joyous smile dancing on his lips.

For the first time in three days the aching loneliness that had taking a residence in his chest subdued.

He was not alone.

And for the first time in almost twenty years he felt truly happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations.  
> Mando'a:  
> Vod - Sibling/Brother/Sister  
> Vod’e - Siblings/Brothers/Sisters  
> Be’vod’e - Siblings’, possessive prefix  
> Jetiise - Jedi (plural)  
> Udesii, vod - Calm down, brother  
> Haalur, o'r bal dayn - Breathe, in and out  
> Boil? Vod, jorhaa'ir at ni - Boil? Brother, talk to me  
> Osik - Shit  
> Di’kut - Idiot  
> Jetii - Jedi (singular)  
> Ryl:  
> Koyi - Snake
> 
> Riiight, so... our boys behave strangely because they are physically children with adults' minds and they just can't realize it and act adjust. But don't worry, help is on the way.


	5. Five – The Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made, instructive stories are told though not understood, tears are shed and can anyone give Obi-Wan a proper night’s sleep?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of dad Obi-Wan for you.

The tension in the Chamber was so thick one could cut it with a vibroblade. The Jedi Masters were frozen in various degrees of shock, surprise and tired acceptance in Mace’s case.

Obi-Wan waited calmly for the Council to gather their thoughts. But it was not one of the Masters who spoke first.

“I’m going to have a son?”

Obi-Wan tilted his head to glance at his Padawan. Anakin voice was full of wonder and his eyes sparked with awe. Obi-Wan nodded with a small smile. Anakin brightened. But a moment later his expression fell, overtaken by anxiety and fear. He paled and turned to Obi-Wan, quietly whispering, sounding broken and horrified:

“I’m going to Fall?”

Obi-Wan inhaled softly and kneeled in front of his Padawan so they were face to face. He placed his hand on Anakin’s shoulder and smiled softly. “Maybe you will, maybe you won’t.” Obi-Wan said. Anakin shook his head in frustration, his face crumbled.

“But you said your second Padawan helped his father to return to Light and if he was my son then it means I Fell and I’m a Sith and-” Obi-Wan gently but firmly squeezed both Anakin’s shoulders comfortingly. Anakin’s mouth closed with an audible click. There was a desperate edge in his gaze as he looked at Obi-Wan.

Making sure that he had Anakin’s full attention, Obi-Wan began talking again: “You are quite right in your guess. Yes, in my past life you Fell.” He kept his voice kind and steady, watching Anakin closely. The teen’s eyes were full with unshed tears. Obi-Wan pressed on. “But it does not mean it will happen with _you_.” Anger flashed on Anakin’s face and he opened his mouth to rebuke but stopped at the sight of Obi-Wan’s raised eyebrow. He reluctantly remained silent. Obi-Wan gave him a brief smile. “Now, want to try and explain to me why?” He asked, letting his tone full back into what Anakin (and Ahsoka and the whole 212th, oh, stars-) dubbed as his _quizzing tone._

Obi-Wan felt some of the tension leave Anakin at the familiarity, though he was still wary but seemed to actually think about the answer.

“Because… all of this did not happen before.” He said slowly, frowning a bit as if trying to catch the disappearing thought. Obi-Wan suppressed a proud smirk. Many thought that Anakin was only good at piloting and his ‘saber, overlooking his intelligence that was hidden behind his obviousness and the brash facade he had put on. Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan.

“Because now we know about the threat and can prevent everything bad from happening!” He blurted in a rush, frantic hope. Obi-Wan huffed and shook his head a little.

“Well, something like that…” He said in amusement. “Not mentioning the fact that we had already changed the course of the future, however slight it might be.” Obi-Wan shoot an innocent look at the groaning Mace Windu over his shoulder. He turned back to Anakin. “So from now on, my old life ceased to exist. For better or worse…” He trailed off, caught up in thought.

“Depa, do you still have those pills?” Master Windu muttered tiredly, his face set in a scowl. Obi-Wan winced in sympathy. Shatterpoints were no fun when they started exploding.

_Thump._

Everyone looked at Yoda, who stumped his stick against the floor again. “Bothering you something else is, young Kenobi.” He hummed, narrowing his eyes on Obi-Wan.

The Jedi in question snorted. “A lot of things do, Grand Master.” He confessed somewhat wistfully. There was so much to do, so many souls to save… but for now… Obi-Wan’s eyes settled on Anakin again. One step at a time. And the first one would be his Padawan.

He swiftly stood up and stepping behind Anakin, both of them facing the Council once more.

“Master Windu,” Obi-Wan addressed formally and the other Jedi set up straighter despite the headache that he was no doubt experiencing, “I would like to ask for your help.”

Windu’s eyebrow arched up. “With what exactly?” He asked, somewhat suspicious which was, well, fair. Obi-Wan smiled a bit ruefully and nodded down at confused Anakin.

“In my first life, just like in this one, Anakin had struggled with his emotions.” A noise of protest left Anakin but Obi-Wan ignored him. “His anger, his arrogance.” Obi-Wan chuckled at the memories. “Those feelings often left him unbalanced and vulnerable.” Obi-Wan’s voice became distant, scenes from the past flashing in his mind. “He did not quite grasp the skill of letting them go. The methods I had offered were not as helpful as we hoped.” He looked up at Master Windu. “So I hope you will succeed there I failed.”

Mace’s eyes narrowed.

“You want me to teach him Vaapad.” Windu stated bluntly. Obi-Wan nodded, not paying much attention to Anakin’s gasp.

“Last time we became good friends and you confined in me just as much as I did. Of all the people present, only you know more about this form than I do.” This was not a light statement. Usually, the only thing that was known about the Vaapad was that there was such a form and that it was dangerous to use, since it brought its user too close to the Dark side. After that Padawans rarely wanted to study the form closely, deeming it too risky. Obi-Wan had learned that it was more complicated.

Vaapad was a state of mind. It required tight control over the Force and feelings from its user. Mace once told Obi-Wan that it was the perfect fighting stile for those who relished in the process of fighting and enjoyed winning. He had a fleeting thought then that Anakin might have actually liked Vaapad if only he had patience and motivation to learn it. But at the time Anakin was seventeen and rarely listened to him, so he quickly put this thought aside. Now though…

Mace was thoughtfully watching Anakin. He tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes.

“I will teach you, Padawan Skywalker. But only if you are willing to learn.” He said finally with a small nod. Anakin’s jaw fell.

“What? But- but you hate me!” He exclaimed in shock, staring at Master Windu as if seeing him for the first time. The Jedi Masters, including Obi-Wan and Quinlan all shared a split moment of surprise. Mace’s eyebrows were high as he processed Anakin’s statement.

“Hate you? What gave you any indication that I might ever hate or even dislike a child, Padawan?” The Jedi Master questioned. Anakin soundlessly opened and closed his mouth a few times, his right hand twitching up to point at Mace. He did not say anything and Mace’s shoulders fell tiredly. Plo Koon leaned forward.

“Young Skywalker, I hope you understand that no true Jedi would ever hate anyone, much less a child.” He held up his clawed hand to prevent Anakin from speaking. “Master Windu is the Master of the Order. He would have never been elected if he was not worthy. He is stern and strict, yes, and he might seem too cold but I assure you, he would never hate you just because you cause trouble from time to time. Trust me, Knight Vos and your Master did much worse in their Padawan’ days.” He shared with a chuckle. Anakin shook his head.

“But you always say that I am too emotional and too dangerous!” He argued back but it sounded weak even to his own ears. Obi-Wan heaved a sigh.

“I often heard those words directed to me.” Anakin’s head whipped around so fast Obi-Wan feared he might have given himself a whiplash. “And not only during my Padawanship.” Anakin gasped.

“No way. You are so…” He waved his hand at Obi-Wan and Quinlan laughed behind them.

“Come on kid. Did not you learn anything today? Your Master is a hellion. He just hides it well.” The Kiffar said with a wink in Obi-Wan’s direction.

“A skill that some people should learn.” Obi-Wan rebuked easily.

“Back to the present discussion.” Depa cut in before the pair could dissolve in banter. She turned her attention to Anakin. “Have you decided, Padawan Skywalker?”

Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan. After receiving an encouraging nod from the older Jedi, he took a deep breath and said: “I accept your offer, Master Windu.” Mace nodded in satisfaction.

“Master Kenobi and I will work on your schedule later, as for now I believe we should discuss where we are going to relocate the Main Temple.”

Obi-Wan tuned the following conversation off, since he had nothing to add and swept the room with the Force out of habit, which he had developed early into his Padawan’s days. Everything seemed alright. No hidden threats or assassins waiting for the right moment. 

Trying not to distract the Council, Obi-Wan began to walk slowly around the room, occasionally interjecting with a remark or asking questions. The Councilmen could not decide on the best location for the new Temple. Some believed that they should settle in the Mid Rim for easy access to the Republic space as well as the Outer Rim. Others wanted to be closer to the Corps in case the Jedi needed their immediate assistance and vice versa. Obi-Wan was equally put out by both proposes but kept silent for now. He had a proposition in mind but was not sure how the others would react.

Slowly he stopped behind Plo’s chair and leaned against the wall nearby. Just as Depa tiredly rubbed her forehead (a gesture she had picked up from Mace, for which Obi-Wan teased him mercilessly) and sighed.

“At this rate we will only make a decision by the time when Padawan Skywalker becomes a Master.” Quinlan smirked at Anakin’s indignant squeak.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat lightly. The Jedi Masters turned to him.

“Something to say you have, Master Kenobi?” Yoda questioned, ears perking up a bit.

Holding back an eyeroll, Obi-Wan nodded. “I have been thinking about it for quite some time and came to the conclusion that we won’t be wise to permanently tie the Temple to another planet.” Anakin frowned, some of the Council members unknowingly mirrored his expression.

“Tie the Temple? What do you mean?” Depa asked as one of the confused ones. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at Yoda.

“You did not tell them?” The ancient Jedi hummed and frowned.

“To know they did not need.” He replied stubbornly. Obi-Wan sighed.

“Not even Mace?” Obi-Wan countered. Yoda huffed and gripped his stick a little lower as if hoping to whack Obi-Wan on the shins form his sit across the room.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Depa cut in, done with their bickering. “Master Kenobi?” She addressed, hoping that he would be more willing to share than their Grand Master.

Obi-Wan was indeed more willing. But that does not mean he was less frustrating. “How much do you know about the Temple?” He asked innocently, enjoying the tired sighs and a couple of groans he received in return.

“Kenobi…” Windu growled and Obi-Wan held up his hands in surrender.

“Come on Mace, I thought you liked riddles.” He teased and paid no mind to the heavy glare Windu sent him. Obi-Wan walked to the Chamber’s center and turned on a holo-projector. The assess panel flicked to life, requesting the password. Obi-Wan typed it quickly and opened an old hidden file.

A giant scheme of the Temple, along with many underground tiers, hidden doors, and secret passages that no one in the Council except Master Yoda and Obi-Wan had known about before.

“Whoa… I knew the Temple was huge, but not _this_ huge!” Anakin exclaimed, inching closer to the holo. “Are those engines?” He asked suddenly, pointing at the picture. Obi-Wan nodded with a small smile at his Padawan’s delight. Anakin’s breath hitched. “The whole Temple is a spaceship?!” He squeaked in excitement. Obi-Wan chuckled.

“Kriff…” Quinlan whispered, coming closer to stand next to Obi-Wan. He gave him a faux hurt look. “And you did not tell me? How could you hide something like that? I thought you loved me!” He wailed dramatically, throwing one hand over his face and Obi-Wan flipped him off.

“I was a little preoccupated when I found out.” He grumbled without much heat. “And later… well, there was no one to tell…” He said, blinking back tears. A fresh wave of grief hit him anew as Obi-Wan remembered the circumstances and he swayed in place. Quinlan was quick to catch him, giving him a concerned look. Obi-Wan squeezed his hand lightly in gratitude. “Thank you, my dear.” He whispered and returned his attention back to the Jedi in the Chamber.

They all, except for Yoda and Master Yaddle who simply moved her chair closer, had left their places and were crowding the holo, examining it. Master Ki-Adi-Mundi raised his head from the scheme just in time to catch Obi-Wan’s gaze. “This is your proposition, Master Kenobi?” He asked quietly. Obi-Wan nodded, leaning on Quinlan without noticing it.

“I think it would be more beneficial if we were constantly on move. This way we will not be dependent on any planet or political regime. At the same time this maneuverability will allow us to live comfortably while we are in search of a suitable place for a permanent settling.” Obi-Wan turned the holo and pointed on the northern part of the Temple.

“See these orbs? They are an ancient technology that can create an artificial atmosphere in any part of the Temple. We can create a more familiar environment for Jedi with special needs.” He said with a smile as he felt a spark of excitement from Master Koon and, surprisingly, Master Yaddle. An old Master just winked at Obi-Wan. He shook his head in amusement and continued.

“The Temple has enough gardens for growing food. Also, we have an account specifically to buy the remaining foodstuff, medicines and other necessities. We can live here for at least a century without needing anything.” _And maybe not just us._ Obi-Wan chased the thought away. One step at a time.

Master Windu looked at the holo, considering. “It could work… How long will it take us to get all the systems in order, gather supplies, and be ready to leave?” He asked Master Koth. The Zabrak rubbed his chin wistfully.

“A week and a half at least. I do not want to rush anything, these engines are old, after all.” He finally stated. Master Windu nodded in agreement.

“I concur. Gather all the help you need, just not outside of the Temple,” he requested and turned to Plo Koon, “Master Koon, you’ll be in charge of our supplies. Take stock of what we currently have and what will need to be bought.” The Kel Dor nodded. “Master Billaba, your task is to disseminate information. But don’t let a word get out. We do not want to explain ourselves to the Senate before we are ready.”

“Obi-Wan.” Mace said and Obi-Wan had a distant feeling that he would not like his own task. And he was right. “In a week and a half, right before the departure, you will be telling the Senate why the entire Order suddenly decided to go sight-seeing.” Windu said in a perfectly even tone with a hint of the smirk. Obi-Wan glared at him. He had a bad feeling about that…

***

Obi-Wan had already begun to get used to the idea that his awakening would never be normal.

Bant did not let him go to his own quarters after he had returned from the meeting, so he was ushered back to his bed in the patients’ room. The only positive thing about this was the fact that she pretended not to notice Anakin who had climbed in the bed with him and hid under the blanket in an unusual display of clinginess. Bant just wished Obi-Wan good night and left.  
The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was the long talk with Anakin.

The teen was absolutely crushed - his whole word view had turned upside down in mere hours. And he did not know how to deal with it. So he did that he always did in a situation of uncertainty. He turned to Obi-Wan. (He had stopped doing it then he was fifteen, claiming himself old enough. But Obi-Wan knew he was talking to the Chancellor and later to Padmé. And he was glad that his Padawan had found someone he could trust. Even if it was not Obi-Wan. (No matter how much it hurt) He tried not to beat himself over it after the Mustafar.)

“What’s on your mind, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked quietly while gently running his hand through Anakin’s hair. The teen shrugged. His face was buried in Obi-Wan’s chest and he did not raise his head. Obi-Wan waited patiently for him to gather himself.

“I don’t know…” Anakin finally mumbled. Obi-Wan hummed, not stopping his movements for a moment. Anakin sighed, content. “I’m just so confused about everything. Windu and the Council are not actually jerks, you are not who I thought you were even before this whole time travel mess. The only thing I know for sure is that Vos _is still_ an asshole.” He ranted, letting out a tired huff. “I don’t know what will happen now, how much everything is going to change…” Shifting a bit so he was facing the wall he whispered almost too low to hear: “...and I’m scared of what it means for me.”

Obi-Wan hummed again. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling as he asked: “I suppose the unknown can be frightening.” Anakin nodded against his stomach. “But it is not necessary a bad thing.” Obi-Wan mused. Anakin was tense as he listened to him. “Then you acknowledge your fear, it loses its grip on you. You can control it.”

“But how am I supposed to do that? And should not the Jedi be fearless?” Anakin rebuked in frustration. Obi-Wan slowly shook his head.

“What does it mean to be fearless?” Obi-Wan countered with his own question. Anakin groaned.

“It means that you are not afraid of anything.” He answered sarcastically.

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow at him. “I will tell you a story I was told in my youth.” He decided and sat up a little higher against the headboard. “Long ago, there was a traveler named Garl Dhardstan. He was known as a reckless daredevil, ready to leap into an adventure at any moment. He took on the most dangerous contracts which even experienced warriors preferred to bypass. Garl laughed in the face of any danger, rushing in head first and always emerged victorious. He had never once lost a battle or failed a contract. This caused him to become overconfident and arrogant. He never doubted his skills, considering himself the best in his field. He thought himself invincible. And anyone who objected he ridiculed or challenged to a duel.” Anakin listened with rapt attention not understanding the reason why he was told the story but enjoyed it nonetheless.

“Once he heard about a wonderful source of magic, capable of fulfilling any desire. But the road to it was long forgotten. Gossip and rumors only instilled more fear. Some said that the source was guarded by a dragon, others believed that the entrance to it was in a black hole.” Obi-Wan nearly chuckled at Anakin’s awed look. “Garl’s friends teased him for his interest in a children’s story. One of the friends said without thinking that Garl would not be able to find the source anyway, since only a fearless person would be granted a wish. This was Garl’s final straw. He quarreled with his friends and vowed to find the source, proving that he was truly fearless.”

“He had spent years searching for truthful information. He faced bandits, marauders, traps and other obstacles on his path. Finally, he managed to find the path he needed. Garl was disappointed with reality. The source was not guarded by dragons and was not located in a black hole. It was hidden in a deep cave on one of the distant forgotten planets, where no one and nothing lives.”

“The source looked like a shining lake reflecting the light of a million long-extinct stars. Nothing else was around. Garl dropped to his knees in front of the source and laughed. _‘I found it!’_ He exclaimed. ‘ _Let everyone who doubted me know this!’_ Garl shouted. He lowered his hands to the source and wished: _‘I want to become the most powerful being in the entire Galaxy.’_ The source glowed and the light surrounded Garl. He had to shield his eyes from its brightness.

A transparent, cloaked figure appeared in front of him. Their face was not visible under the hood, and the fabric hid their body. They tilted their head and looked down at Garl.

 _*You wish to be powerful, child of Hota. We will grant you your wish, but only if you pass our trial.*_ It said.

Garl angrily shot up to his feet _. ‘I have faced enough on my way here, bring it on, I am not afraid of anything!’_ The figure just shook their head slowly and flicked their hand.”

“The cave dissappeared and Garl was left in the middle of a green field, filled with plants he had never seen. He looked around and saw a huge beast napping on the sun. It was a great serpent with scales as bright as a sun. Garl smirked, confident that he would be able to easily end the beast. He used to be afraid of them in his youth but now he was not afraid anymore. He drew his sword and with a battle-cry rushed toward the beast.”

“The serpent woke up at the sound and stretched up, watching Garl come closer. It did not move, watching the human with curiosity. But as Garl was ready to launch himself onto the beast it suddenly sneezed and accidentally breathed fire on him, leaving only a pile of ash in his place.”

Obi-Wan paused and reached for a glass of water.

“And thus, ends the tale of Garl the Fearless.” He finished, hiding his smirk at Anakin’s shock.

“What? That’s all? But it could not end like that!” He cried out in irritation. Obi-Wan chuckled.

“Then how was it supposed to end?” Anakin jumped from the bed, pacing the small room

“Garl was supposed to kill the beast and get his wish! He was supposed to show everyone that he was the best!”

Obi-Wan inched his head. “Then why everything happened how it happened?” That stopped Anakin on his track. He frowned.

“Bad luck?” He shrugged and pointed a finger at Obi-Wan. “I know, I know, _‘there is no such thing as luck’_ , I know.” He waved his hand at Obi-Wan and the Jedi Master snorted. Anakin scrunched his nose. “The legend said that only a fearless person would be granted their wish… And Garl was not afraid of the beast…” He muttered to himself. Abruptly he turned back to Obi-Wan. “But Garl was not fearless, was he?” Obi-Wan stayed silent. Anakin sat back on the bed, deep in thought. After three minutes he sent Obi-Wan a helpless look. The Jedi smiled and gestured for Anakin to sit closer.

“What do you think was Garl’s trial?” Anakin rolled his eyes.

“He had to prove that he was fearless by killing the beast he used to be afraid of.”

Obi-Wan made a nonchalant noise. “Did he?” Anakin stared at him.

“Ah, yeah? That was the whole point of the trail.” He said with an eyeroll.

“He had to prove his fearlessness, yes. But who said he had to kill the serpent?” Obi-Wan countered easily. Anakin frowned.

“But how else was he supposed to do it?” Anakin whined and flopped down on the bed.

“Remember, the serpent did not try to attack Garl. It was only watching him.” Anakin rubbed his hands down his face and moaned.

“So what? Maybe it was just waiting for a right moment to attack.” He shrugged carelessly.  
Obi-Wan took another sip from his glass.

“But you do not know it.” He pointed out. Anakin gave him a glare, which was ignored. “No one knows what the serpent would have done. And why?”

Anakin bit his lip. “Because Garl rushed ahead without thinking? He did not gather any information about the serpent, he did not even ask what he was supposed to do. He just saw it and decided to stuck something pointy into it.” Obi-Wan’s lips quirked up at his Padawan’s choice of words.

“I wonder why it sounds so familiar.” He said absently and watched the blush appear on Anakin’s face. The teen noticed his smirk and flushed even harder.

“Because you tell me all the time to think first and then act.” He answered dutifully, still red from embarrassment. Obi-Wan nodded.

“And for a good reason. Information is the best weapon in the Galaxy. It can be used to defend and to attack. It can lead to a lot of trouble and it could save countless lives…” Obi-Wan fell silent. “Have you ever heard about the Battle of Galidraan?” Anakin shook his head. Obi-Wan ran his hand through his face, thinking about the beast way to tell about it.

“The first thing you need to know is that this Battle is one of the worst mistakes the Jedi have made.” Anakin nodded, listening closely. Obi-Wan sighed and started: “The Governor of Galidraan had hired the True Mandalorians to deal with rebels who were causing him troubles. And at the same time, he requested the Council’s help. He claimed that the Mandalorians were slaughtering the innocent.”

“A unit of Jedi lead by Master Dooku arrived just after the Mandalorians fulfilled the contract. Master Dooku ordered them to stand down. The Mandalorians refused. And after that the Battle of Galidraan began.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and released his sadness and grief into the Force. “It was a massacre. Both sides had lost many, but the True Mandalorians were all but eliminated, with Jango Fett being the only survivor out of hundreds Mandalorians.”

Anakin’s shock tingled in the Force and Obi-Wan gave him a sad smile. “It could have been prevented if only the Jedi had the correct information. Which they could have gotten by talking with a witness and or with the Mandalorians. But the prejudices that both the Mandalorians and the Jedi had towards each other did not give them such an opportunity.” Obi-Wan said slowly, his thoughts taking entirely different path. He knew that Jango Fett hated both the Republic and the Jedi for everything they had done to him. Why did he agree to become a template for an army of clones who were designed specifically for the Republic?

“But you did not answer - what did Garl really need to do to pass?” Anakin clumsily changed the subject, jolting Obi-Wan from his thoughts.

He blinked a couple of times at his Padawan. “Can’t you guess?” He asked teasingly, making Anakin groan and drop his head into his hands dramatically.

“But it’s so hard and I’m sooo tired.” He whined. Obi-Wan reached out and ruffled his hair.

“Alright, I give you a hint.” Anakin immediately perked up. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at him. “A fearless person is not someone who doesn’t fear anything, but one who acknowledges their fear and overcomes it.” Anakin sighed.

“You’ve told me that already.” He complained, climbing into the bed properly. Obi-Wan let him cuddle closer and settled down on his pillow.

“I am aware, Padawan mine. Now, you can think about the answer tomorrow. It is already late and if Bant catches us she will be very cross.” They both shuddered at the thought. Angry healers were the worst.

They fell asleep at dawn, limbs intertwined and wrapped around each other.

And now, Obi-Wan sat up abruptly as panic, confusion and fear flooded his mind.

Instinctively, he closed the shields around the source of these emotions, thinking that Anakin was having a nightmare and wanting to shut him off from the outside world. Due to his strong connection to the Living Force it was hard for him to wake up after a nightmare. They always felt a little too real and he tended to lash out if he thought that there was something dangerous around.

But now, a little more awake, Obi-Wan realized that Anakin was still sleeping peacefully and those emotions came to Obi-Wan from another bond. The bond that should not exist. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened as he followed the connection. The person on the over end was having a full-blown panic attack. Cursing, Obi-Wan untangled himself from Anakin and rushed out of the room.

Using as many secret tunnels and passages as he could to cut off the time, he reached the Crèche in seven minutes instead of twenty.

He bursted into a side room, there the Crèche Masters lived and there the reason on his sudden awakening currently was.

Two Masters were too busy trying in vain to calm down their charge to notice Obi-Wan. However, the crying child was more observant.

Her big blue tearful eyes became even bigger and she gasped in shock. Obi-Wan smiled tenderly at the girl and sent a wave of love to her through their newly restored bond.

"Hello, dear one.” He greeted, tears running down his cheeks freely. “It’s been a long time.” He murmured and a moment later he had an armful of crying Togruta wrapped around him like an elk. Obi-Wan hugged his Grand Padawan back with the same strength, gently stroking her montral. Ahsoka buried her face in his neck and cried harder. Her emotions were haphazard, shields down and Obi-Wan had absolutely no doubt that she remembered too.

It was a blessing and a curse.

On the one hand, Obi-Wan was glad that now he had someone from his past and the fact that this someone was the one he considered his daughter was even better. They kept in touch even after she left the Order, updating each other about their states. It was not easy but they managed just fine. Obi-Wan did not know if she survived her mission on Mandalore and it broke Obi-Wan’s heart every day for the rest of his life. And now, he had her back…

But on the other hand, he was devastated. They had lived through not one, but two Galaxy wars and had seen terrible things. And Ahsoka was a teen back then. She was shielded as much as was possible by the _Vod’e_ and the Jedi. Now, she was eight and subjected to the knowledge of future horrors. It was not something he would wish upon anyone, much less a child who could not control her reactions the way she was used to. Obi-Wan refused to think about how it would impact her mental state.

Obi-Wan forced himself to let go of his concerns and focused back on the child in his arms. He was already shielding her so it was easy to gently nudge her into a light meditation. Ahsoka followed his lead easily and the pair sank deep into the Force.

Ahsoka’s mind was a mess of swirling colors, bright flashes and black holes which made it an impossible task to see her mind-place. Her shields were torn to shreds, so Obi-Wan silently directed Ahsoka back into her own mind and began to restore the shields. Usually, the Jedi did not build shields for others, they only put them behind their own shield. It also was a risky thing to do, since it was tedious and hard work. One wrong move and Obi-Wan could permanently damage Ahsoka’s mind. But in her current state she would be unable to fix the shields herself and it was even more dangerous for a force-sensitive as strong as Ahsoka.

The Torguta herself was trying to put her mind in order. Obi-Wan sneaked a few glances at her from time to time and was pleased to see that the holes were almost gone and the flashes stopped popping out. The little girl beamed at him, feeling his pride in the Force and returned to her job.

When Obi-Wan was satisfied with the shields he let go of them and stepped back to check on his work. The new shields were a mix of Ahsoka’s old shields from her late Padawanship and Obi-Wan’s desert ones. Ahsoka gave him a funny look after inspecting them but did not say anything. Obi-Wan offered her a small smile and braved a look around.

He had been in Ahsoka’s mind-place before and it used to look like _The Resolute’s_ cockpit. But now, it resembled an absolutely unknown to Obi-Wan common room on some starship.

It was a large, specious room in white and blue with a high ceiling. It was oval in shape and had many windows. Under the windows were panel devices whose purpose was a mystery to Obi-Wan since he had never seen such models. There was an oval table in the center of the room, and a lamp and projector hung directly above it. there were comfortable-looking chairs around the table. Several even had pillows and blankets on them.

Obi-Wan glanced down at uncharacteristically quiet Ahsoka and smiled. “You’ve got a cozy room here. Unlike me. For some reason, I ended up with a desert.” He complained, making Ahsoka giggle at his tone. “No, really, just a sand dune, nothing else for miles and miles away. Mind-place is supposed to be a save heaven but mine did not even give me an umbrella to fend off the heat.” Obi-Wan sighed dramatically and Ahsoka bursted out into a full laughing fit.

When she stopped hiccupping, she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the nearest chair. At her insistence, Obi-Wan sat down and Ahsoka climbed into his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Obi-Wan sensed her unease and he knew she was not alright, so he refrained from asking questions and let the girl set the pace. Soon, Ahsoka started trembling and Obi-Wan’s robe became dump. He said nothing, just patted Ahsoka’s back and hummed a Crèche lullaby.

A lot of time had passed before Ahsoka calmed down enough to emerge. She still stayed silent, not uttering a word and absolutely refused to part from Obi-Wan, clinging to him with all her strength when one of the Crèche Masters tried to take her back to her bed. She hissed at Master Feolpa, baring her sharp teeth.

“There is no need for this.” Obi-Wan chastised her with a stern look. Ahsoka glanced at him apologetically and tucked her head under his chin. Obi-Wan smiled politely at the two clearly displeased Masters. “I suppose I’ll be taking Initiate Tano with me.” He said slowly inching out of the room. But Master Serro blocked his escape.

“Initiate Tano had just suffered a panic attack not typical for her age for unknown reason. She needs rest and care of professionals.” They insisted, reaching out for Ahsoka once again. Obi-Wan skillfully side-stepped them.

“How fortunate that I'm on my way to the Healing Halls.” He informed the Masters with a placating smile. Master Feolpa narrowed her eyes.

“And just how did you end up here?” She asked, looking Obi-Wan right into the eyes.

Obi-Wan sighed, running his hand down Ahsoka’s montral. He lowered his gaze at her, now sleeping peacefully in his embrace. “She called for me.” He answered simply.

The Masters’ postures softened. They shared a look. “In that case we will gladly place young Tano in your care. May the Force be with you.” Master Feolpa said with a little bow. Obi-Wan and Master Serro echoed her last statement.

Obi-Wan ducked out of the room and started an unhurried track back to the Halls of Healing. He chosen the long way rather than a shortcut, since there was no way for him to use it without waking Ahsoka. The Torguta was snoring softly against his throat and it put a smile on Obi-Wan’s face. He nodded to the few passing Jedi in greeting. The Temple never slept, someone was always on watching duty and the steady stream of Jedi returning from a mission or going on a mission was endless.

It took Obi-Wan nearly half an hour to return to his room. Anakin was sprawled all across the bad, an arm dangling over the edge and blanket wrapped haphazardly around his legs. With a chuckle, Obi-Wan took another blanket, moved his sleeping Padawan to the side and laid down next to him, throwing the blanket over Ahsoka.

Obi-Wan looked down at his little family and smiled brightly. Lucky for him, Anakin had always wanted a sibling. Hopefully, he and Ahsoka would get along.

Squashing down all doubts and uncertain thoughts, Obi-Wan got comfortable in the bed, closed his eyes and fell into the dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flyyyyy awaayy to a raaainbow in the skyyy.  
> That's it, folk. The Jedi are going to just fly away. Or not? Will the Senate let them go? Who knows... definitely not me


	6. Six – Bad luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Kenobi's bad luck seems to have spread to his troopers, because Cody can't think of any other explanation...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it was a long break, but I was very busy studying.  
> And I apologize in advance.  
> I promise, everything will be fine!

Cody bit back a curse as he threw a punch with a lot less grace and force than he was capable of.

He was in strength training and the instructors were watching their every move. Cody couldn’t afford to slip and give himself away by using a technique he was not supposed to know. He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts and focused on his opponent.

‘36’s gaze that was following his movements was a far cry from the quick and calculating flick of an eye he had seen Wolffe use in battle.

_(It was easier to separate the two of them. And too hard to call the little boy in front of him by the name that meant nothing to him. Even in the privacy of Cody’s own head)_

A little distracted by the familiarity of the training, Cody let his mind wander a bit, not enough to lose awareness of his surroundings but enough to enter the condition that General once described as moving meditation. He thought back to the previous evening.

After he escorted Waxer and Boil to their room, he returned to his own. Even though he had only managed to get five hours of sleep he felt better than he had since waking up here. A stupid, happy smile kept trying to appear on his face, which he couldn’t allow, otherwise he would have had to explain it. And even though he was a better liar than Waxer, Cody didn’t want to draw attention to himself.

He did not see them at breakfast and there was no time to seek them, not that Cody would have done so. They’ll meet soon. And maybe, by that time Cody would have some kind of information to share. During his rounds I noticed the door to an abandoned communication tower. If he remembered correctly, it was half-destroyed about a year and a half ago during one of the most severe storms. Its roof was literally blown away. With any luck _(there is no such thing as luck, Cody, I told you-)_ , there would be something useful.

Sighing, Cody shut his brain down and narrowed his eyes at ‘36. The pair circled each over, waiting for the opportunity to present itself. Cody suppressed a maniac grin. Even now, without his memories and skills, he was a right bastard and a very dangerous opponent. As if reading his mind, ‘36 lunged forward, aiming at Cody’s torso. Cody easily sidestepped the attack and deftly kicked ‘36 in the shin, causing him to trip. He did not lose his balance entirely but gave Cody enough time to grab him around his waist, sending them both fumbling to the floor.

Growling lowly, ‘36 tried to twist his way out from Cody’s grip, but Cody was faster. He skillfully flipped ‘36 onto his front and pinned him down.

‘36 snarled at him halfheartedly and Cody let out a brief smirk. “Are you done?” He asked lazily which only made ‘36 groan in response. The instructor nodded approvingly and turned to supervise another pair.

“Yeah, yeah. Shove off.” He mumbled. Cody huffed and complied, standing up. ‘36 rolled onto his back and stared at Cody’s outstretched hand with narrowed eyes. Cody flashed him a small smile.

“Come on. I don’t bite.” He teased and ‘36 scowled at him but accepted the help. Cody hauled him up with a slap on the shoulder. “Was not that bad, was it?” He asked innocently. ‘36 hit him in return. Cody shoved him back lightly. ‘36 sighed and rolled his eyes.

Cody shook his head and looked around the room. His squad was training in hand to hand combat so they were divided into pairs. Cody winced as he witnessed how Gree fall down with a loud crack that indicated a broken bone. ‘36 hissed in sympathy, watching Neyo hurry toward his spar partner. The instructor barely glanced at them, dismissing the situation as unimportant and Cody almost growled. He carefully made his way to the pair, kneeling down next to Gree.

The vod was clutching his arm close to his chest, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. Cody breathed in and out very slowly. He knew that they were required to be able to fight in any condition until they were ordered to stop or died. You got injured during the training and you can still stand – you wait until the end of the day to go to the medic. You’re in pain? Grit your teeth and press on. It was their reality for many years. Replaceable. Insignificant.

Which was why they were caught by surprise after their first battle with the Jedi. Alpha-17 told them stories about wide-eyed shinies who gawked at their Generals when they tried to collar them to the medics as soon as the fight was over and it was safe. Some Jedi even began their acquaintance with new troopers (when they first arrived and the only information they got was from longnecks or through rumors) by reciting a list of their rights and what they were allowed to do. Many of shinies were shocked. Some of them even cried. The sheer idea that they could go to a medic as soon as they were injured or sick was unbelievable.

They adjusted to it slowly. Sometimes only after particularly unpleasant incidents.

_(The General stared at Cody’s hands in mild astonishment as he held them in his own._

_‘I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’m afraid I misheard you.’_

_‘I punched it.’_

_‘…’_

_‘You punched… a droid… with your bare hands?’_

_‘…I had my gloves on.’_

_General Kenobi pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. He looked like he was ready to start lecturing him on proper fighting technics but Cody could see a small fond smile on his face. In the end the General only sighed._

_‘Next time, please, remember that you have a blaster. And a vibro-blade.’_

_‘Duly noted, General.’)_

Cody smirked ruefully at the memory and gently took hold of Gree’s broken arm. The vod stayed silent, biting his lower lip to prevent any sound from escaping, afraid to express the pain he was feeling. Cody carefully prodded the arm, like Threepwood taught him, trying to determine the severity of the break.

“A closed fracture.” He murmured to himself and tugged his vibro-blade out of its sheath.

‘26- no, Neyo frowned at him. “What are you-” he hissed quietly only to snap his jaw shut when Cody cut off his right sleeve from his tunic and ripped the fabric into narrow but long strips. He did the same to his left sleeve.

Gree was watching him in shock, pain forgotten. Wolffe has gone very stiff and eerily unmoving, staring at Cody with something unreadable in his gaze. Cody dismissed it for a time being, focusing on a more pressing problem.

He cursed softly, realizing that he had nothing with which he could keep Gree’s arm in place. He scanned the room, looking for something suitable. But as stars would have it, there was nothing in this blasted room. Lips thinning in slight frustration, Cody returned his gaze to the strips, frowning. His shoulders dropped and he sighed in resignation. Not even turning around he reached out and snatched Neyo’s blade from its holster, ignoring his somewhat muffled ‘Hey!’

Quickly and deftly, due to a lot of practice, Cody put a splint on Gree’s arm, using the blades to keep the bone in place. He felt someone’s presence appear behind his back and forced himself not to react. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the others stiffen and recoil a bit in fear. Cody clenched his jaw but did not turn around until he made sure that the splint was secure. He nodded to himself, flashed a brief reassuring smile to Gree and stood up, his face becoming a blank mask as he turned to look at the instructor.

The man had his arms crossed over his chest and he was staring down at Cody with a frown. Cody did not remember his name, since the man had trained them only for a year or so, before disappearing. He just looked back at him, eyes vacant of any hint of his feelings and waited for the man to speak. The instructor’s frown deepened. His eyes rolled over Cody up and down, then shifted to Gree, Neyo and Wolffe. Only the last one did not squirm under the heavy gaze, Cody noted with a well-hidden interest. Wolffe seemed off the whole day, but he just could not figure out what was wrong.

The instructor looked back at Cody. “Designation?” He inquired, voice stern. Cody resisted the urge to roll his eyes. (Damn Wolffe for integrating that trait into Cody)

“CC-2224, sir.” The number slipped easy and Cody hated it. The instructor raised one eyebrow at him. Cody kept silent. They did not talk unless spoken to and he did not really want that man to have an even bigger leverage to use against him.

He could feel the other _be’vod’e_ eyes on him, curious and a little scared. They weren’t particularly subtle, so Cody could easily trace every glance to its owner. Not that it was necessary. He knew that everyone in the room was watching them. Then the silence felt like it lasted longer than five minutes the instructor’s eye twitched in irritation and he gritted through clenched teeth: “And what is that?” He gestured at Gree, who kept his arm carefully tucked away.

Cody followed the gesture with an empty look, just to piss off the man and then stared back at him. “That’s CC-1004, sir.” He answered evenly, keeping his amusement down from showing in his tone. The man goggled at him, unsure. Cody bit back a smirk. It was really fun to mess up the instructors. For some reason almost all of them expected the _Vod’e_ to be brainless idiots unable to think for themselves and who could only follow orders. It was actually rather insulting but Cody was in no position to do anything. At least openly. For three days he’s been sassing the longnecks and trainers and none of them realized that, thinking it too complicated for a simple _clone_. And none sans the _Vod’e_ even knew that they _could_ be cheeky. Unfortunately, this man looked like he had figured it out, so the Commander braced himself in the inside, while in the outside he still had a perfect sabacc face.

The instructor narrowed his eyes, trying to determine whatever he was being mocked or not. Cody kept staring at him, his posture straight but not stiff with tension. He did not flinch when the instructor took a sudden step toward him and bended down so their faces were on the same level.

“Think you’re smart?” The instructor hissed. Cody snorted mentally. The man clenched his jaw and snarled: “Very well in that case it won’t be too hard for you to pass my new test.” He said with a cruel smirk, grabbing Cody by shoulder and dragging him toward the advanced training area. Cody went easily, ignoring the whispers as he went. He was not worried about whatever test he would have to pass. He had a lifetime worth of memories at his disposal. Although, he could not show his skill, he could use the knowledge and his hard-learned ability to bullshit his way through nearly everything with a straight face. He would have to thank the General and Skywalker for this one… if he ever met them again and, by some miracle, they’ve believed him.

Gritting his teeth Cody shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell on that.

The instructor shoved him into the ring and ordered: “Wait here. You,” he pointed at Fox who snapped his head up, “follow me.” He went to the back of the hall and entered the storeroom, Fox trailing behind him. Cody watched them go and let his mask slip for a moment, sighing, passing his head through his hair.

“Psst, _vod_.” Someone hissed, and Cody slowly turned his head in the voice’s direction. He raised an eyebrow at Ponds, who was standing near the edge of the ring, frowning at him. “Have you completely lost your mind?” He asked angrily. Cody gave in and rolled his eyes. Ponds sighed and shook his head. “What were you even thinking – taunting the trainer like that?” His voice trembled slightly as he whispered hastily. Cody sighed and walked closer to him.

“ _Udesiir, vod_. I’ll be fine.” He said, knowing that it certainly would not calm Ponds down. And sure – the _vod_ scowled at him and folded his arms.

“You know, for some reason your words do not fill me with confidence.” He snarked, looking away. Cody bit his lip. Ponds was simply worried about him (the thought left him giddy and warm), he shouldn’t be acting like an asshole. That was Alpha-17’s job. So, Cody did the only thing that could help in this situation – he leaned forward, wrapped one arm around Ponds’ shoulders and tugged him into embrace. Ponds allowed it, seemingly reluctant but he latched himself at Cody as soon as he was close enough and burrowed his face into the crook of Cody’s neck.

Cody cursed himself internally. How could he have forgotten that Ponds’ tubemate had been decommissioned for being ‘disrespectful’ to a trainer? He drew the shaking vod closer and rubbed his back. “I promise, I’ll be fine. Trust me, I’ve got this.” Cody murmured. He knew his vague promise was annoying but that was all he was able to give him.

He heard a snort. “You’d better be, or I’ll throttle you myself.” Wolffe threatened, making Cody snort.

“I don’t doubt that.” He murmured, carefully extracting himself from Ponds’ arms and pushing him toward Neyo and Gree. “He’s heading back. You’d better go, before he sees you.” He said, glancing at the storeroom’s door which had squeaked open just a moment ago.

The _vod’e_ hurried away, only Wolffe lingered behind, giving Cody that strange look again. “What are you waiting for?” Cody hissed furiously. “Want to join me?” Wolffe snorted, rolling his eyes. And the motion struck Cody. Wolffe did not start doing it until they were seven and he had seen one of the instructors do it to piss Fett off. Cody looked him up and down, noting the firmness in his stance that was not there yesterday. He gulped; throat suddenly dry. “Wolffe?” Cody whispered lowly, staring at him.

Wolffe’s eyes widened in surprise. “Cody?” He asked in return, disbelief and hope lacing his quiet tone. Cody nodded and wanted to rush forward and hug his wayward _vod_ but Wolffe’s gaze darted somewhere behind him and he quickly stepped away, hiding among the rest of the _vod’e_. Cody straightened up, dropped his hands down and turned around.

The instructor was walking toward him with a wicked smirk. Fox was carrying a bronzium sphere, looking uncomfortable and eyeing it with suspicious. Cody tensed. He recognized the sphere. He had seen ones like it before and bit back a string of curses he wanted to unleash on the foolish instructor.

The man nodded at Fox and he carefully placed the sphere on the floor, backing away from it immediately. Throwing a remote-looking device from one hand to another, the instructor gave Cody a smile full of teeth. Then he turned and ran his gaze over the rest of the _vod’e_ that were crowding around. “Now, who knows what’s this thing?” He asked cheerfully and Cody wanted to grab the nearest heavy object and bash him on the head with it. He clenched his jaw and stayed silent. The _vod’e_ whispered among themselves but no one had the answer. The instructor’s smirk grew. “This,” he said, pointing down at the sphere, “is a destroyer droid, destroyer or droideka, for short.” He pressed something on the remote and the droid unfolded. 

Cody stared at it, tuning off the instructor’s words about the droideka’s structure. He already knew it all – strengths and weaknesses. Sure, he was not familiar with this exact model but it was pretty similar to the ones he had fought during the so-called ‘Clone war’. What he did not know was what in the blazes possessed that idiot to bring out one of the most dangerous battle droids into the room full of children. ‘At least it’s not a **JK-13** …’ Cody mused darkly.

“…and CC-2224 is going to show us how.” Cody jolted at the sound of his number and glanced up at the instructor. But the man was not looking at him. He was fiddling with the remote. Cody threw a look at Wolffe. _‘The kriff he wants from me?’_ He signed quickly.

 _‘Fight the roller.’_ Wolffe signed back and Cody nearly groaned. At the same time, a transparent protective dome covered the entire ring. Cody immediately shifted into defensive stance and thanked all deities he knew for Cort’s training. At least he could freely use that.

The roller beeped and faced Cody. Its’ shield came up, then it raised its’ single hand and pointed both blasters at Cody. Without a second thought, he threw himself to the side, rolling under the shots, which bounced off the dome harmlessly. They were fewer and slower than normal, Cody noted. Probably thanks to the instructor. Not that it made any difference. His old/new body did not have the same stamina he was used to, so he needed to deal with the farkling roller asap.

Cody dodged and ducked under the shots, mind whirling frantically, already struggling not to pant and keep his breath even. He knew that the rollies had a weak point at the very top of their shields but he had no weapons, no armor and no plan. The _vod’e_ all were silent, watching him intensely.

He evaded another bolt and scowled at himself. It was not the first time he faced an enemy bare-handed. He’d just have to improvise a bit. The droid stayed in the middle of the ring, firing at him from there, while Cody had to run all over the space to avoid getting shot. He bit his lip, looking around the ring, trying to think of something. His eyes came to rest on the dome and suddenly, Cody had an idea. He sneaked a glance to the roller and noted the broken sensor, worn power cable and sparkling power reactor. He grinned, a plan promptly forming in his mind. All he had to do was get the roller closer to the edge of the ring.

Glancing at Ponds and silently praying that he would forgive him, Cody braced himself and pretended to stumble, letting the shot hit him. Taking advantage of the fact that no one saw exactly where the shot hit – his arm or chest, he allowed the impulse to turn him around and fell to the floor on the right side, blocking the view of the wound. He heard stifled gasps and loud cries. Ponds’ shout tore his heart. He wanted to leap up and hug his _vod_ but made himself lay still, waiting for the roller to come closer to confirm his death. It was unable to do it from the distance, its’ sensor damaged.

And not a moment later he heard the sound of claws on the floor approaching. The roller was just two feet away from him when Cody jumped and dashed forward. He heard the _vod’e_ roar but ignored them. Letting the momentum carry him, Cody hopped at the dome, used it as a fulcrum, he somersaulted and landed neatly on top of the roller. Moving hastily, Cody kicked straight at the center of the shield. Energy from the shield ran through his entire body making him cry out in pain. And then he was thrown back by the shock wave – the roller’s reactor was unable to handle the failure and exploded.

Cody landed with a stifled gasp, all air leaving him at once, his whole body screaming at him in agony. His arms and legs twitched on their own accord, his right shoulder stinging from the blaster bolt and his head felt like it was filled with cotton. He groaned and curled into himself, wishing the damn buzzing would stop already. Something flashed and then there were hands on him, several voices spoke at once, all demanding his attention. Cody just moaned, squeezing his eyes shut and hoping that it would make the voices go away.

A deep voice barked something loudly, making Cody flinch. He breathed slowly, releasing the pain like the General had taught him. Two rough hands grabbed him and hoisted up. He barely suppressed a shout, biting his cheek. He blinked dazedly a few times and stared at the instructor’s furious face.

He was talking but Cody couldn’t make out the words. They all blended together into a complete nonsense. The man seemed to realize that. He shut his mouth abruptly, then turned his head to the side and yelled at someone, taking his hand off Cody. Left without support, Cody immediately began to sink to the floor.

But a pair of hands caught him under the left shoulder and another pair under the right, holding him upright. They started dragging him somewhere and he did not have enough strength left in him to protest. Numbly, he allowed two _vod’e_ to carry him out of the training room into the halls. His vision was blurry, blood was rushing through his ears. Cody thought he might have a concussion. It made him snort. None of those blasted longnecks would let him take enough time to heal. He remembered Threepwood’s scowl and Kix’s murderous expression when he would try to sneak out of his bed in med-bay while concussed. He sighed fondly, letting a bitter smile appear for a moment.

He became aware that someone was talking to him. Well, _over_ him would be more accurate, since the person seemed to simply rant, without actually waiting for an answer.

“--stupid suicidal _di’kut_.” Ponds muttered angrily from Cody’s left. Wolffe nodded mutely from his right. Cody tried to roll his eyes but his head throbbed at the motion and he grimaced, making the _vod’e_ stop abruptly.

“What’s it?” Ponds questioned, eyes roaming over Cody, trying to find the source of hurt which was rather… useless at this point but Cody appreciated the gesture. He gestured at his head slowly, moaning when his arm protested the motion.

“Careful here,” Wolffe chided him, “we don’t want that to fall off.” He teased with a smirk. Cody tried to glare at him but it probably looked more ridiculous than threatening since Wolffe only barked a laugh. Bastard. He hoisted Cody up bridal style, ignoring his pained gasp and Ponds’ protests.

Cody sighed at manhandling, knowing that Wolffe would never let him live it down and dropped his head on his _be’vod_ chest. “Where are you taking him?” He heard Ponds’ voice. “The healing halls are this way.”

Wolffe snorted. “As if it’ll do him any good.” He grumbled, rounding the corner. Ponds stomped after him angrily.

“But it’s the only option! He’s bleeding, for fark’s sake!” He argued hotly. Cody frowned and winced promptly when the left side of his face was pulled morbidly. He almost reached out to touch but Wolffe batted his hand away, scowling at him.

“You'll get an infection if you keep doing this.” He scolded Cody sternly. Cody pouted and groaned when even that little motion hurt. Wolffe shook with silent laughter.

 ** _“Kau bajingan.”_** Cody muttered, making Wolffe stumble in surprise. He huffed and shouldered some door open. Ponds squeezed inside right after him, looking around curiously.

“What’s this place?” He asked trying for nonchalant. Judging by the look Wolffe shot him, he failed. Cody sighed in relief as he was placed on something soft. He relaxed and closed his eyes, only half-listening to the ongoing conversation.

“An abandoned laboratory.” Came Wolffe’s curt answer. It sounded like he’d moved away from Cody and started searching the shelves for something. “I found it when I was running away from the observers a few weeks ago.” He explained. Cody frowned slightly. There was something wrong with Wolffe’s tone. Like he was lying.

Ponds made a high-pitched sound. “You were _what_?” He squeaked. “ _Vod_ , are you trying to get yourself culled?”

Somewhere in the room Wolffe snorted. “Believe me, it could not be further from my goal.” He said and then dropped something with a loud _bang_. “Damn it!” He cursed.

Cody huffed, lips curling into a tiny smile as he listened to the spring of curses Wolffe let out. A yawn forced his way out and Cody’s head ached.

Someone cupped his face. “Uh-huh, none of that!” Ponds tutted him. “You can’t fall asleep now!” His voice was getting more panicked with each word so Cody opened his eyes and stared at him. Ponds heaved a shaky sigh. He hung his head, breathing shallowly. “Do you even know how much you scared us?” He murmured lowly, making Cody’s stomach lurch from guilt. Ponds’ hands trembled a bit as he wiped some blood from Cody’s face. “I thought you **died** , _vod_ …” His voice broke and he choked on a sob.

Cody slowly raised his left hand and tugged Ponds’ sleeve. He gave him a look and Cody pointed at the free side of the blanket nest (really?) he was lying on. With a sigh, Ponds carefully climbed in, mindful of Cody’s injures. He put his head on Cody’s unharmed shoulder and wrapped his arms around his waist.

Cody dozed off for a bit and came into himself when Wolffe used a wet rag to clean his face. He stood up then he finished and put away the rag and a basin. “I'll get supplies. Don’t fall asleep.” Wolffe said lowly with a glance at sleeping Ponds and slipped out of the room.

Knowing better than to disobey Wolffe, Cody wriggled a bit higher and took his first proper look on the room.

It was a small laboratory, just as Wolffe had said. There were several oblong holo-tables, six computers turned off, and three elegant white holo-chairs. Four rows of shelves were on the walls, but most of them were empty, except for the two lower rows, which were filled with various junk – wires, droid parts, broken datapads, and the like. Cody absently thought that Tech would have liked to fiddle with those and then he sharply looked up at the ceiling, keeping tears from falling. Three huge stela lamps were glowing, hurting his eyes.

The door creaked open again and Cody heard footsteps. He tilted his head to watch the newcomers and was tacked aback by a fierce scowl Wolffe’s companion was spotting.

“You just can’t live a day without getting into something, can you, Commander?” The _vod_ scolded, marching forward and dropping down the bag he was carrying. “Did not General drill into you that you are not blaster-fodder?” He sounded like he was simply wondering, not asking so Cody refrained from answering, trying to process what by the Force was happening. The _vod_ dropped down on his knees, rummaging through his bag. “But nooo, you still go and land yourself into the nastiest Carbon Flush you can find every chance you get.” He muttered acidly, pulling out a syringe and a vial of something from his bag. After filling the syringe, he wiped Cody’s arm with some kind of medical napkin and injected the entire dose. “Farkled barvy dambass.” The _vod_ grumbled, frowning down at gawking Cody. “You still with us, boss?”

Cody startled. Only one person called him ‘boss’. “Threepwood?” He rasped and coughed immediately, jolting Ponds awake. He gawked at Threepwood and at the syringe still in his hand.

“Who’re you?” He demanded, raising his chin in intimidating manner. Threepwood scowled, dropping the syringe in the trash can which Wolffe obligingly pulled closer.

He wiped his hands and pulled on some med gloves. “I’m his best chance to save his pretty face.” Threepwood replied, stunning Ponds. “Now move on and let me treat my patient.” He barked harshly. Ponds scrambled off and Threepwood moved to sit next to Cody.

Threepwood worked quickly and efficiently, as always. Cody found himself relaxing under familiar ministrations. He followed instructions easily, turned when needed to without prompting and only hummed when the medic started stitching his face.

“That’ll scar.” Threepwood mused. “Looks like it’s your destiny.” He said with a smirk, causing Cody and Wolffe to snort. Ponds just looked at them in confusion. Cody waved him off. He would explain later. Or maybe not.

Cody frowned. He had no idea how those who remembered were chosen. Or why the memories came back at different times. There was no guarantee that Ponds would remember.

Biting his lip, Cody turned away from Ponds, instead choosing to stare at Threepwood. He had a lot of questions but with Ponds here, his hands were tied. He needed to get Wolffe and Threepwood to come at the meeting with Boil and Waxer. A corner of his lips twitched up as he imagined their shocked faces and Threepwood’s glee at having someone to check over. Then his face fell promptly, realizing that they would be very displeased by this unexpected turn of events. And worried. Cody sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He should make plans but the mother of headaches he had was rudely preventing him from doing so.

Without bothering to ask, he downed the silvery liquid Threepwood held out to him and sagged in relief, the pain subduing slowly but surely.

Threepwood stood up and started packing his things back into the bag. “Now, I would recommend some rest and peace but we all know it won’t happened, so…” He looked Cody dead in the eye. “Keep your head down.” Cody nodded only succeeding in making the medic shake his head. he closed the bag and reached out, clapping Cody’s uninjured shoulder. “Stay safe, _vod_.” He murmured, pressing their foreheads together briefly, abruptly pulled away and walked out of the room.

“You’d better get back to the classes.” Wolffe said after a while. Ponds startled and stared at him with wide eyes. “They’ll punish us if we all miss it.” He continued, pushing off the wall he was leaning on and walking toward them. “I’ll stay. Watch after him.” Cody made a faint noise of protest but he was ignored. Ponds held Wolffe’s gaze for a few moments, then nodded once and without a glance back left the room.

Wolffe let out a long sigh and slumped down next to Cody. They sat in silence, until:

“When?”

Cody gave Wolffe a side-glance and laid back onto the blankets. “Five days ago.” Wolffe grunted in acknowledgment. “You?”

Wolffe plopped down onto the blankets too. “This morning.” He replied curtly. Cody hummed, processing the information.

“And Threepwood?”

Wolffe snorted, a grin forming on his face. “Ran into him in the restroom after breakfast. He was cursing the longnecks. In _Aqualish_.” Cody laughed at the mental image. Their medic had always been a mouthy piece of kark.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, simply taking comfort from each other’s company. “Boil and Waxer remember too.” Cody informed Wolffe after some time. That earned him a laugh.

“Of course, they are. Those two were attached to a hip. Just like Skywalker and Kenobi.” Wolffe said, his voice becoming melancholic. He threw his arm over his face with a tired sigh. “Trust me – those two terrors from the 501st would be next.” He snorted, a lazy smirk curling the corner of his lips up.

Cody raised an eyebrow. “You mean Fives and Echo?” Wolffe hummed in confirmation. Cody frowned. “I’m not sure if they’re decanted yet…” He glanced at Wolffe. “You are taking it all rather well.” He commented in puzzlement. Wolffe shrugged.

“Not sure if it settled in yet… or even what the hell is going on.” He confessed with a sigh. “I was just getting ready to sleep and then there was an explosion… next thing I see as I open my eyes – that damn white ceiling in my childhood nightmare.” Wolffe said with a harsh laugh. He tilted his head to peek at Cody from under his arm. “And there was you.”

“Me?” Cody asked in slight surprise. Wolffe rolled his eyes.

“Did the hit damaged your hearing?” He jabbed, batting Cody’s poking hand away from his side. “Yes, you. You were acting weird. Not like I remembered.” Wolffe shook his head. “But after you fixed Gree’s arm, well. I just knew you were hiding something.” Cody smiled despite the situation.

“I’m going to meet with Waxer and Boil tomorrow.” He said. “You should come too. And take Threepwood. And whoever else remembers, if you just so happened to find someone else.” Cody decided, sitting up. The headache was almost gone, his shoulder only tingled a bit (by Cody’s standards). He looked down at Wolffe. “We’ll fill you all in.”

Wolffe nodded curtly, his eyes (stars, was not that even weirder than Waxer with hair) narrowing at Cody. Suddenly, his hand shot up, curled around Cody’s shoulder and the next thing Cody was aware of – he was pinned under Wolffe, blinking dazedly at him. Wolffe smirked. “And what do you think you’re doing?” He asked flatly. Cody opened his mouth to respond but Wolffe silenced him with a glare. “No.” He cut off and dropped himself down, effectively trapping Cody in his embrace.

Wolffe shifted a bit, making himself more comfortable. He tucked Cody closer and shut his eyes. “Now, you’re going to be a good Commander and listen to your medic. Which means bed-rest.” He said, opening one eye to send Cody a pointed look. The Commander huffed in annoyance.

“I feel perfectly fine, Wolffe.” Cody argued, trying to wriggle out of those unyielding arms. Wolffe simply tightened his hold, making it impossible for Cody to move.

Cody tried to glare at his fellow Commander but Wolffe rested his chin on top of his head and started humming. A farkling lullaby! Cody was going to strangle him. 

Wolffe disregarded Cody’s low growl and carried on with his tune. Cody was sure the bastard was enjoying this.

Grumbling vaguely under his breath, Cody relaxed into Wolffe, giving in.

He woke up a few hours later, Wolffe snoring lightly into his ear.

It took Cody another twenty minutes of persuading Wolffe into letting him go on his rounds.

They were both on their feet, glaring at each over, refusing to be the one to back down. Cody was giving Wolffe his best unimpressed look. He developed it during the prank war between the 212th and 501st. Gearshift and Longshot often found themselves on the receiving end of it. Fives and Echo too. Sometimes even Tano and Skywalker. Not that it affected those two much, but it was nice to make a point.

In the end Wolffe decided to just tag along. “You can’t even raise your arm,” Wolffe reasoned then he saw Cody getting ready to protest, “and if you’re doing to search that room you might need to rummage through some high shelves.”

And that was it.

Cody walked the corridors silently, swiping them with his gaze absently. Wolffe was following him, albeit using a different hall, to avoid unwanted questions should someone happen upon them. He nodded at other observers he passed on his rounds, carefully defying the curious looks they were giving him.

It was likely that the whole Tipoca City knew what happened by now. The _Vod’e_ were horrible gossips. And his ragged looks did not help to condone those rumors. Cody snorted, amused as another _vod_ ‘subtly’ gawked at him. He was quite a sight, he made sure to actually asses his state in the mirror before he left Wolffe’s hideout. (He also decided to pry about it later. He _was_ tired)

Torn, wrinkled, bloodied and burned in several places blue tunic, a huge jarred cut on his left temple with bruises around it, his shoulder bandaged, cuts littered his arms and he was walking with a slight limp.

Putting aside all thoughts of his day, Cody slipped away from his assigned route and beaconed Wolffe over, leading him toward the door.

He stood guard while Wolffe picked the lock. It opened with a click and two _vod’e_ silently slid inside. They climbed the stairs swiftly, unconsciously falling into the familiar position they adopted during the war – one _vod_ in front, leading, the other – two steps behind, covering him.

Cody attentively surveyed the room they were about to step into.

The roof, like he had suspected, was absent. He could see the night sky, full of heavy black clouds, the harsh cold wind was caressing his skin and tousling his short hair. The rest of the room was in ruins. The maintenance droids did their job decently and cleared all rubble from the floor, but the smaller pieces, dirt and water that got into the room through the hole remained littered on the floor. There were several crashed holo-tables on the floor, broken equipment all around them. Cody saw an intact computer and several shelves on his right and his mood brightened a bit. He nodded mutely at Wolffe, signing _‘all clear’_ and moved inside.

He went straight to the computer, hoping that it was salvageable. Or at least that it could be stripped of some useable parts. While he was fussing over it, Wolffe searched the shelves.

They had to be quick. Their time was limited and if they were caught here, they would be decommissioned without for sure. If not reconditioned first. Cody shuddered. Even thinking about it made him uneasy so he tossed those thoughts out of his head, like the General taught him and refocused on his task.

Another minute ticked by. Cody huffed in frustration. The computer was damaged beyond repair, its wires fried. He was about to stand up and see if there was something forgotten under the tables then Wolffe gasped.

Cody instantly whirled around, alert and tense, searching the room for threats. But Wolffe seemed alright, if a little distracted by whatever was in his hand. Cody walked closer and could not contain his own gasp.

In Wolffe’s open palm innocently lay a comm. Sure, it was an older model than the ones Cody was used to, but it was whole and in working condition. Cody let a manic grin stretch on his face. He met Wolffe’s gaze and saw what he too was exited but tried to restrain that feeling.

They had a chance to contact the outside world.

They could call for help.

Now the only thing left for them to find was the right frequency.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, he's fine!  
> Mostly...  
> He will be!  
> Translations.  
> Mando'a:  
> Vod - Sibling/Brother/Sister  
> Vod'e - Siblings/Brothers/Sisters  
> Be’vod - Sibling’s, possessive prefix  
> Udesiir, vod - Relax, brother  
> Di’kut - Idiot
> 
> Kel-Dorian:  
> Kau bajingan - You are an asshole
> 
> Slang:  
> Roller - Droideka  
> Rollies - A group of droidekas  
> Barvy - Crazy  
> Carbon Flush - Vulgar expression used to indicate an extremely displeasing situation
> 
> Oh, and JK-13 is a security driod, unofficially known as the "Jedi Killer"


	7. Seven – The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Folk, I present to you - Ahsoka the Protector Tano, Anakin the Elated Older Brother Skywalker, Obi-Wan the Tired Father Kenobi and Mace Windu the Long-suffering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last month was... Ugrh... I had a lot of assignments and I didn't have the time, energy, or motivation to write. You know this state where you seem to have free time and you don't mind doing something interesting, but you can't even move your hand and end up spending the entire evening mindlessly scrolling through your social media? Yes, that's me during last month. But in the end I found some inspiration and brought you some fluff. Enjoy)

Obi-Wan grunted softly when a sharp elbow connected to his stomach. He knew something like that would happen since from the moment he woke up in the past he never had a normal awakening. It almost seemed like it was someone’s elaborate plan to drive him crazy.

Shaking himself out of his ridiculous thoughts, Obi-Wan blinked his eyes open and looked down.

There was a head on his chest. It had white pointy montrals with blue streaks. Tiny hands clutched his tunic tightly. Three hands to be exact. Obi-Wan frowned and followed the third hand to its owner, who turned out to be his Padawan. He was using Obi-Wan’s left arm as a pillow and his fingers were firmly wrapped around the front of Obi-Wan’s robe.

Obi-Wan blinked slowly at him and shifted his gaze back to the person on his chest. His sleep-hazy mind was trying to figure out who was that person and why they were clinging to him like their life was depending on him. Then the events of the previous night came rushing in and Obi-Wan barely suppressed a gasp. The kids had been through a lot during the past few hours, no need to wake them up now.

Besides, he did not know how much Ahsoka remembered. Obi-Wan mentally kicked himself. Carefully, so his movement would not dislodge the sleeping girl, he tugged his arm free and sat up. Anakin frowned in his sleep and turned over to his other side. Obi-Wan smiled fondly at him and held his breath when Ahsoka made a soft noise like she was waking up. But instead she only snuggled closer, burying her face in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck with a small content sigh.

It was the scene that greeted Bant when she opened the door. The healer took one look at Obi-Wan’s pleading face and at two sleeping children, sighed and walked out, shaking her head.

Ahsoka stirred unhappily at the sound and Obi-Wan found himself humming a lullaby while rubbing the girl’s back gently. It did not help much, apparently, because soon Ahsoka yawned into Obi-Wan’s neck, sending goosebumps down his skin. Holding Ahsoka with one hand, he turned and sat on the edge of the bed, blocking her view so she would not be able to see Anakin.

The Togruta shook her head, tipped it up and stared at him with bleary eyes. Obi-Wan smiled at her tenderly and she shily returned the gesture. “Good morning, dear,” Obi-Wan whispered, “How are you feeling?” He asked. Ahsoka just keep staring at him silently, big blue eyes examining his face as if she was trying to commit it to her memory. It made sense, Obi-Wan thought, since he was not sure if she had actually seen him at this age.

That thought made him pause. He wasn’t even thirty yet – his life day won’t be for another two months, according to the calendar – and Ahsoka officially met him when he was 35 and didn’t look his best. War and stress had aged him much. For all he knew, his people lived on average up to 120 standard years. That he looked and felt like an ancient man at 57… And then Obi-Wan frowned, trying to remember how he looked like right now. It just so happened that he hasn’t looked in the mirror since waking up. Yes, he could see that his hair was longer than it had ever been in his entire life, falling just below his shoulders and he knew that he had a beard that probably needed to be trimmed, but other than that, he didn’t have the faintest idea.

Obi-Wan was distracted from his thoughts by a small hand that touched his cheek.

Ahsoka was squinting at him, unconsciously mimicking his frown. She tilted Obi-Wan’s face down a bit and scowled at the bags under his eyes, startling a surprised laugh out of him. That expression on her face was just too cute. Anakin grumbled something inarticulate behind him and shifted, making Obi-Wan freeze. Ahsoka went rigid, her entire being locking up. Eyes wide, she threw Obi-Wan a desperate look. She even stopped breathing.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Obi-Wan murmured, reaching his free hand up to stroke her montral. “No one will hurt us, I promise.” When the fear in her eyes did not subdue, Obi-Wan wrapped his shields around her like a fuzzy blanket, sending love and fondness through their bond. Some tension bled out of Ahsoka’s shoulders and she started breathing again. Obi-Wan smiled encouragingly at her. “Well, you are doing much better than I did, my dear.” He said, only half-joking. Ahsoka rolled her eyes and slumped forward, her forehead resting on his shoulder.

In the blink of an eye, their surroundings changed. They were back in Ahsoka’s mind-place. Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow, looking down at her. Ahsoka jerked her shoulder without looking up, and suddenly memories began to flash around them.

There was no system or order in which memories appeared. At one point, Obi-Wan watched the very first meeting between little Ahsoka and Master Plo Koon and then the image changed to a mission on Ryloth. Obi-Wan noticed that there were many more memories from Ahsoka’s childhood and youth than from her adulthood. They were a little faded and smudged, but quite legible.

The oddities started around the time she left the Order. Obi-Wan knew much of what happened to her afterward, though he could tell that she did not tell him everything, and he did not see even a third of the adventures Ahsoka had mentioned. He had known that she survived Order 66, Bail told him that she had contacted him. They even met once, to reassure each other. But he saw memories of Ahsoka older than thirty only six times – the first was of her talking to Bail via holo; the second, she was running across the roofs, followed by blaster fire; the third, she was hugging a vaguely familiar humanoid with a gray beard (Obi-Wad had a feeling that he should know him), the fourth, Ahsoka was flying somewhere in a starship, everything was calm; the fifth, she was standing in front of a Sith in black armor, tears in her eyes; and the sixth, she was setting up camp in the forest. They were no real memories, just glimpses and flickers but Obi-Wan got the general idea.

Ahsoka did not regain her memories like he did. She remembered him, remembered her Padawanship and the war. But what happened after… it was still coming back to her.

Obi-Wan sighed and pulled the little girl closer. She fought Darth Vader. She knew he was Anakin. No wonder she felt frightened.

“I know it might be hard to believe,” Obi-Wan murmured, patting Ahsoka’s back gently, “But he came back.” Ahsoka’s breath hitched, she was all ears now. Obi-Wan chuckled. “Yes, he did. Not without a little nudge into the right direction, you know him, but he still did it.” Ahsoka’s grip on his tunic tightened, her knuckles turned white.

Memories of Anakin danced around them – the first meeting on Christophsis, lightsaber practice, their joint trips to Dex’s, long nights filled with meaningless talks… And the cold black armor that swallowed their brother.

Ahsoka whimpered at this one and pressed herself deeper into Obi-Wan’s embrace, seeking comfort. Obi-Wan stared at her a little helplessly. He draped his outer robes over her, hiding her away from the world and from the memories. It helped. The memories stopped. And then Obi-Wan heard a knock. It was barely there, short and uncertain but he heard it nonetheless.

“Are we expecting someone?” Obi-Wan joked to ease the tension but judging by the vigorous shake of Ahsoka’s head, he failed. Frowning, Obi-Wan reached out to feel their soon-to-be-intruder and was unable to suppress a snort.

Anakin was hovering next to Obi-Wan’s shields, radiating concern and wariness. But Obi-Wan felt that he was curious too.

“It seems like we have been found.” Obi-Wan said mildly. Ahsoka slowly raised her head to look at him questioningly. Obi-Wan offered her an encouraging smile. “My young Padawan is waiting for us outside.” He shared and Ahsoka froze again. Obi-Wan reached out, carefully cupping a side of her face. “Ahsoka, **_mo iníon_** ,” he started, successfully regaining Ahsoka’s attention, “I don’t know how but we are in the past now. Its 28 BBY right now and Anakin is only thirteen.” Ahsoka’s jaw fell open. Obi-Wan chuckled at her shocked expression. “Yes, we all were children once.” He said and was hit lightly on the shoulder for his troubles. But at least Ahsoka did not seem so scared anymore. In fact, she was pouting, giving Obi-Wan a halfhearted glare. Obi-Wan merely smiled at her.

Then he got serious again. “It will be hard.” He whispered. “I’ve only been back for a handful of days and it feels like eternity…” Ahsoka was hanging on his every word, watching him closely. Obi-Wan shook his head. “All those Jedi who died in war, they’re all here, alive and content… and the Force, oh, **_a chara amháin_** , the Force, its so _Light_ here…” He marveled quietly. Ahsoka giggled, hiding her smile behind her small fist. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “It is.” He insisted. Now it was Ahsoka’s turn to roll her eyes. “But it is not the only difference. Anakin is different too.” Ahsoka’s smile disappeared, here expression becoming attentive, like she was listening to a pre-battle debrief.

Obi-Wan relaxed back into the armchair he was sitting in. He thought about his Padawan and started quietly. “He is arrogant. And reckless. He does not listen then told not to do something.” Ahsoka snickered. Obi-Wan huffed. “Well, maybe not that different.” Obi-Wan admitted with a small laugh and Ahsoka poked him in the stomach. Rolling his eyes Obi-Wan continued: “But he is also loyal to a fault. He is kind and loving, intelligent and devoted. And a huge mother-tooka at times.” Ahsoka made a considering noise, head tilted a bit in thoughts. Obi-Wan smiled fondly. “And there is no trace of that bitterness he used to have. No fear sans normal and no distrust. There is no Darkness in him, no more than in you or me.” Obi-Wan looked Ahsoka in the eyes. “And if we help him, this time he won’t know how it feels to Fall.” He finished, quieting.

Ahsoka nodded with a determinate look on her face and tentatively let them slip out of her mind-place. Their surroundings began to dissolve and Obi-Wan took control.

He felt the sand under his feet first. Then a cool breeze gently caressed his face. The rustle of leaves, the soft chirp of local birds, the splash of water... that’s what made him open his eyes and look around in curiosity.

The last time Obi-Wan went here was right before he and Luke infiltrated the Death Star, and then his mind-place looked like his hut and its surroundings.

Now Obi-Wan stood in the middle of a small oasis. He identified some of the flowers and plants around him as native to Tatooine, Alderaan, Naboo, and even Kiffu. There were others that he vaguely recognized from planets that he visited during the war or on a mission. Surprisingly, they all combined, not a single leaf looked out of place.

The plants grew in an oblong circle three feet from the edge of the lake. The lake itself looked crystal clear and Obi-Wan was able to see its’ rocky bottom. He watched a flock of colorful fish jump out of the water one by one, fly a little over the edge and dive back with great amusement.

“Woah…” A voice breathed in awe. Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side and saw Anakin standing there, staring around in astonishment with his mouth hanging open. Although, as soon as he looked down, he grimaced. “Really? Sand? Why, Obi-Wan?” He whined, raising his head to throw his Master an accusing look and promptly froze, eyes zeroing on the small figure in Obi-Wan’s arms. “Who’s it?” He asked, stepping closer. The robe was covering Ahsoka from head to toe, hiding her from view. Only her arms which were wrapped around Obi-Wan’s neck were peeking out. Anakin frowned. He carefully inched closer and, after Obi-Wan’s encouraging nod, eased the robe off Ahsoka’s head.

Ahsoka was still pressing her face to Obi-Wan’s shoulder, refusing to look at the world around her. Obi-Wan stroked her back tenderly. “Hey there, don’t worry. I’ll be here all the time.” He said reassuringly. The girl bit her lip and slowly turned around. She met Anakin’s gaze and held it, not even blinking.

The pair stared at each other in silence. Through the bonds he shared with them, Obi-Wan was able to feel their running emotions. He sensed an interest, bafflement and a small amount of jealousy from Anakin. Obi-Wan tried not to dwell on the last one, hoping that once they spoke, he would be able to erase it.

Apprehension radiated from Ahsoka’s bond. But in much smaller quantities than before. For the most part she seemed curious. Obi-Wan’s lips curled up in a tiny smile. Of course she would be curious – she had never met young Anakin and only ever heard about his numerous misadventures from Obi-Wan and Anakin himself. Although the latter had a tendency to exaggerate his deeds. And from the looks of it, Obi-Wan’s earlier words must have had an effect.

Anakin was smiling hesitantly. He held out his hand. “Um, hi. I’m Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan’s Padawan.” He introduced himself, just a tad awkwardly. “And you are...?” He trailed off, eyes flickering up at Obi-Wan for a moment then back at her.

Ahsoka cautiously unwrapped one of her arms from Obi-Wan’s neck and slowly extended it toward Anakin’s, hesitantly twinging their fingers together. Anakin beamed at the motion and Ahsoka returned the smile, albeit a bit dimly. She looked up at Obi-Wan and nodded in Anakin’s direction.

A pang of worry flashed through Obi-Wan. He was not sure what caused Ahsoka’s silence but he did not think it was anything good. He would have to talk to her about it later.

He smiled at the girl and turned his attention to Anakin. “This is Initiate Ahsoka Tano.” He introduced and paused for a moment, debating whether to tell more. In the end he decided to leave that particular decision to Ahsoka, simply telling the basics for now. “And she’s my Grand Padawan.” Anakin’s eyes went wide and he gawked at the small Togruta.

“Really? You were my Padawan? That’s so cool!” He exclaimed, the tiny bit of jealousy vanishing without a trace. “Are you the only one? Did I have another Padawan? Did _you_ have a Padawan?”

Obi-Wan watched Anakin babble with a fond smile, while Ahsoka looked at him in fascination and, to Obi-Wan’s small surprise, adoration.

Anakin was in the middle of another question when Ahsoka suddenly let out a high-pitched sound and lunged herself on Anakin. He caught her with a surprised yelp and fell on his back, Ahsoka on top of him. She quickly wrapped her limbs around him and tucked her head under his chin. Anakin froze and sent Obi-Wan a baffled look, begging for help. Obi-Wan made no move to interfere, as he felt Ahsoka’s intent and knew she meant no harm.

Hesitantly, Anakin hugged Ahsoka back, lightly at first, and then tighter, after she pressed closer to him.

They laid there for a long time, Anakin telling Ahsoka about his childhood in the Temple and all the pranks he pulled on various Council members and she listened intently. Sometime during that period Obi-Wan settled next to them and drew the pair into his own arms. Anakin placed his head on Obi-Wan’s left shoulder and Ahsoka gripped his sleeve.

Sand was, surprisingly, very comfortable and even Anakin did not complain. Obi-Wan rested the back of his forearm on his face, blocking sunlight and listened to the sounds around him, relaxing completely.

Obi-Wan did not know for how long they were in his mind-place. But at one point he felt a knock at his outer shield. He sleepily reached out and sensed Quinlan’s familiar presence. Without a second thought he opened a path to let him in.

In less than a minute, a low, drawn-out whistle rang out. “Wow, Obi.” Quinlan said slowly, looking around. “That’s _really_ fancy! Have you decided that since the Council won’t let you rest, you’ll get yourself a resort in your own head? Where are the cocktails and sun loungers then? Or is it a thing now, to lie on the sand?” He teased as he came closer. Obi-Wan lazily waved him off with a grin and Quinlan plopped down next to him on the sand with a snort. He reached out and ruffled Anakin’s hair, earning himself a swat. Then he noticed Ahsoka.

Quinlan raised both eyebrows at Obi-Wan. “You’re collecting strays now?” Obi-Wan sighed, dropping his arm down. Anakin bristled.

“Ahsoka’s not a stray! She’s my Padawan!” He argued with a scoff, glaring at Quinlan. Then he looked down at Ahsoka. “Don’t listen to Vos. He’s a jerk.”

“Language.” Obi-Wan grunted absently, while Ahsoka giggled and Quinlan laughed.

“Come on, Obi. I’ve been called worse.” He said flippantly and winked at Ahsoka.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Is there a reason why you decided to disturb us?” He questioned.

“Yep.” Quinlan smirked. “Bant’s been trying to reach you for twenty minutes. She wants to examine you and Shorty.” He nodded at Ahsoka and went on, ignoring her offended gasp. “Crèche Masters were very insistent.”

Obi-Wan heaved a sigh. “Looks like our nap time is over.” He murmured and closed his eyes, carefully guiding everyone out.

He opened his eyes in his healing room and took it in – Anakin and Ahsoka were draped over him like two particularly cuddly loth-cats. Quinlan was sitting on the chair next to the bed and near the door stood Bant. Her arms were crossed and she was looking at Obi-Wan disapprovingly. He tried to placate her with his best apologetic smile but it did not work.

She sighed, lowered her arms and stalked forward. “Obi-Wan Kenobi, do you have a death wish?” She hissed. Obi-Wan blinked slowly. It was the first time in both of his lives that he had seen her like this. No, of course she was often angry with him for not caring about his health, but to hiss... He didn’t even know Mon Calamari could hiss!

The kids steered at the noise. Anakin sat up and yawned, stretching. He started then he noticed Bant and hurried to slid off the bed. Ahsoka remained where she was, watching Bant move from there she was tucked under Obi-Wan’s chin with sharp eyes. Like every member of her lineage, she had a bit of aversion toward healers and healing halls in general.

Bant continued to rave: “In your condition, frequent use of Force is strictly contraindicated! You cannot shield someone else, as well as yourself, it will put a strain on you. If you continue like this, you will only delay your recovery or even land yourself in a coma.” She huffed, pushing a flailing Quinlan out of her way and stopped next to Obi-Wan with a scanner.

Anakin gulped at Obi-Wan’s side. “It’s that bad?” He asked fearfully. Obi-Wan reached out and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

“Don’t worry, Anakin. I know my limits and when to stop.” He assured the distressed boy. “Trust me.”

Bant huffed loudly, frowning down at the scanner. “You’ll strain yourself and I’ll have to put you on-” she cut herself off, as she read the data and her frown deepened. “How…” She murmured, tapping the screen to compere the data.

Then, she looked up at Obi-Wan and stared at him intensely. “Your recovery is going well. No damage or changes since last night.”

Quinlan grunted and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Isn’t that good?” He asked.

Bant nodded absently, still examining Obi-Wan with a critical eye. He could feel he poking and prodding him with the Force. “It is good. But it should be impossible.” She replied, sending Obi-Wan a look that said he’d better start talking right now. He offered her a small helpless smile. After all, he could not really tell her about the war and all those things he’s been through… Jabiim, Christophsis, his years spend alone on Tatooine… it would be too hard to even speak about, much harder to explain to someone who never knew war or torture. Even if they were a friend.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly and shifted Ahsoka on his lap, so Bant would be able to scan her too. The girl made a distressed noise and glared up at him. Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow and she petulantly let Bant do her job.

The healer moved around her new patient and Quinlan decided to speak up. “So, how did you end up with Shorty?” He asked, smirking at Obi-Wan.

Anakin folded his arms and gave Quinlan a nasty look. “I told you already – Ahsoka is my future Padawan.” He replied dryly and Obi-Wan felt weirdly proud of his Padawan. Judging by a shy glance Anakin threw his way, his feelings leaked through their bond.

Quinlan waved a nonchalant hand. “Yes, I have already heard about your ambitions, now I want to hear about reality.” He said with a pointed look which he sent Obi-Wan’s way.

Obi-Wan pondered if he should intervene or let them figure everything out on their own then Bant suddenly froze.

Her eyes were fixed on the screen, but she slowly dragged her gaze up and it landed on Obi-Wan. “Master Kenobi,” she said icily and Obi-Wan winced inertly, “care to explain why Initiate Tano shows the same symptoms as you do?”

Worry and concern filled Obi-Wan. “How severe are they?” He questioned, wrapping both arms around Ahsoka who gladly used it as an excuse to cuddle closer.

Some of Bant’s anger left her and she softened. “Her condition isn’t as serious as yours, but still concerning. It's quite dangerous for her age.” She replied, taking Ahsoka’s arm to take a blood sample. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”

Obi-Wan tilted his head in thoughts. A lot of people already knew about his situation, should he risk and add another one?

Quinlan and Anakin exchanged uneasy glances. Bant narrowed her eyes at them in suspicious. “Quinlan Vos, what do you know?” She demanded and Quinlan quickly made an innocent face.

Ignoring his friends, Obi-Wan turned his attention to Ahsoka.

 ** _“A chara amháin, conas a bhraitheann tú? Inis dom go hionraic.”_** He murmured, tipping her head up with a finger under her chin to look her in the eyes.

Ahsoka was silent for a moment, then feelings swam into Obi-Wan’s mind.

_Exhaustion, fear, excitement, love, relieve, a desire to be near someone she knew and loved._

Obi-Wan blinked a few times to clear his vision and only then noticed that the room was silent. He looked up in mild confusion. Quinlan and Bant were staring at him, seemingly puzzled and Anakin was watching him with a frown.

He cleared his throat. “She feels fine, merely tired.” He informed Bant.

“And you know it how?” Quinlan asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back on the chair. Obi-Wan inclined his head.

“She showed me.” He replied, stopping Bant’s movement.

“Initiate Tano is eight. She is showing sights of Force exhaustion as well as Force starvation and some remaining symptoms from her panic attack. She shouldn’t be awake at all right now, let alone using the Force to show you something.” Bant stated matter-o-factly. “And how does she even know how to do it?” She asked, exasperated. “I didn’t feel the slightest glimmer of her emotions, so she wasn’t projecting. And we only teach Padawans to send feelings directly only when they have already established a bond with their Master and are used to it. And, like I said, Initiate Tano is eight.” She sighed tiredly. “Obi, you’re my friend and I let you get way with a lot of things.” Bant spoke softly after a moment of silence. “But now it’s about the little girl’s health. I need to know what’s going on.” She pleaded.

Obi-Wan didn’t know what to say and felt guilt grow in his chest. Suddenly, Ahsoka slapped him on the shoulder, frowning. Then she turned to Bant and her frown morphed into a full scowl. Obi-Wan was about to scold her for such behavior but something beeped sharply, successfully distracting him.

He turned his head and saw Anakin fumble with his wrist-comm. He flashed as he noticed the glances sent his way. “Sorry, my alarm went off.” He said with a grimace. “Law class starts in ten, I have to go.” He sounded reluctant and glanced at Obi-Wan with begging eyes.

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan carefully stood up. “In that case, you’d better go now.” He told Anakin. “It’s a 10-minute walk from the Healing Halls to your classroom, and you don’t want to be late, do you?” He teased and Anakin groaned loudly.

“Sure, Master.” He mumbled and with one last parting look, stepped out of the room. Then he returned. “Can we have lunch together?” He asked hopefully.

Obi-Wan chuckled but nodded and Anakin left with an exited cry. Smiling, Obi-Wan turned to his friends. He looked at Quinlan. “Can you fill Bant in? I want to take Ahsoka to breakfast.”

Quinlan frowned. “You’re not going to return her to the Crèche?” Obi-Wan shook his head and shifted Ahsoka higher on his hip.

“I would be unwise, considering our situation.” He replied, eyeing his and Ahsoka’s clothes critically. “Besides,” Obi-Wan smiled innocently and Quinlan immediately narrowed his eyes in suspicion, “it will make great Grand Master – Grand Padawan bonding time.” Quinlan snorted and folded his arms.

“Only you, Obi.” He muttered and waved the pair off, turning to face a very angry Bant.

Obi-Wan ducked out of the room with a chuckle. He set up an unhurried pace, letting Ahsoka take in the Temple, just like he did after waking up in the past. While he walked, Obi-Wan twisted their shields into something resembling their old ones from that time. He also made a stop in the Crèche to get Ahsoka’s outer robe. And then he finally glanced at the mirror.

Well… all things considered; he did not look bad. Like he estimated earlier, his beard needed to be trimmed but that was all. His hair was long, laying on his shoulders in curly waves. Obi-Wan wondered absently if he should ask Quinlan for a scrunchie. But in the end he decided against it.

It took them nearly half an hour to get to the main entrance. They nodded to the Guards as they passed them and Obi-Wan confidently turned to CoCo town.

Ahsoka was bundled in her robe from head to toe, not showing a single glimpse of her skin. She pressed her face into Obi-Wan’s shoulder and was napping, lulled by his step. Noticing it, Obi-Wan decided to take a longer route and walk through the Market.

It was, as always, incredibly busy, terribly chaotic and very loud. Some argued, some haggled, sellers called customers, mothers shouted to their children not to go far and all this in different languages. The flow of people and droids was moving in all directions, making orientation very difficult for an unaccustomed individual. Obi-Wan effortlessly maneuvered between people and looked at the counters at the same time.

This Market usually did not sell food. Here one was able to buy spare parts for droids, starships or utensils. Some sold clothing and shoes and even various totems and religious paraphernalia. Obi-Wan’s attention was drawn to a small makeshift stand between two larger counters. A little girl was standing behind him. She looked about 12 standard years old. The stand in front of her was littered with bright multi-colored thread bracelets. They were of different sizes, shapes, plain or with colorful patterns. Obi-Wan moved closer, his interest growing.

The girl greeted him with a beaming smile, which he found himself returning, and told him that she accepted credits and was open to barter. Obi-Wan nodded and returned to his previous task. He examined the bracelets and chose green with turquoise pattern for Bant, gold with red inscription ‘You’re screwed’ in Huttese for Quinlan, blue with emerald and black pattern for Anakin and blue with white like the 501st troopers’ armor for Ahsoka. Obi-Wan was about to pay, when his gaze caught on the orange bracelet. The hue was exactly the same as the one 212th used. Of course, he ended up buying it too, and after thanking the girl, he went on.

As they approached Dex’s, Ahsoka started to wake up. “Just in time.” Obi-Wan commented lightly and entered the dinner.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi!” Dex cried out with a big smirk on his face, as soon as he stepped in. “Long time no see! Come in, come in.” He greeted and ushered Obi-Wan deeper into the room, letting him take one of the private booths after he noticed Ahsoka in his arms. “What can I get you today?” He asked then the pair settled.

“The usual for me, Shawda club sandwiches for my friend here and two Sic-Six-layer cakes.” Obi-Wan answered with a smile. Dex nodded and returned ten minutes later with their order. He slid into the booth across Obi-Wan and smirked.

“Well, who is your young friend, Obi-Wan?” He asked, smiling at Ahsoka. “She’s got quite an appetite.” He remarked, watching her devour the sandwiches.

Obi-Wan focused on his own meal. “Growing Togrutas eat a lot.” He retorted, taking a bite. Dex rolled his eyes.

“Sure, I’ve heard kids are all like this.”

Obi-Wan hummed nonchalantly under his breath.

They spent two hours in the dinner, talking and exchanging news and rumors. Of course neither of them said anything outright, but it was one of the reasons Dex was the best informant in this sector and Obi-Wan enjoyed their carefully-worded conversations filled with double meanings and metaphorical traps. It kept him on his toes. All the time while they talked, Ahsoka listened quietly and fiddled with her new bracelet.

In the end, it was Obi-Wan’s comm that ended their talk. It started flashing and from the caller’s name Dex gathered that he’d better be off. Obi-Wan nodded at him and accepted the call with a sigh.

A small holo of a rather unimpressed Master Windu appeared. Obi-Wan offered him a charming smile. “Master Windu,” He greeted, “What can I do for you?”

“For start, Knight Kenobi, you can tell me why you took an Initiate from the Crèche yesterday and end with why you did not return her there.” Came his dry reply.

Obi-Wan smiled calmly. “Ah, you see, Initiate Tano was very distressed yesterday and suffered from a panic attack. I offered the Crèche Masters to take her into the Healing Halls, since I was on my way there.” He explained, taking a sip of his tea. “And this morning Healer Eerin diagnosed Ahsoka with Force exhaustion _and_ Force starvation.”

Mace’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Is her condition worse than yours?”

“Her’s is better, truth be told.” Obi-Wan answered.

Mace sighed. “The Council awaits your return. We will need to discuss this new development.”

“Of course, Master Windu. We will return shortly. May the Force be with you.” Obi-Wan said.

“May the Force be with you.” Mace echoed his statement and Obi-Wan finished the call.

Ahsoka let out a sad sigh, reluctantly climbing off her seat. Obi-Wan chuckled, standing up as well. “Looks like we are missed. Come on, we should not keep the Council wai-”

_The hot sun is blinding. Pain. Sounds of explosions and blaster shots. Red stone under his feet. Shouting. Someone shakes him by the shoulder. He seems to be lying on his back, he's not sure. His leg is throbbing. A face appeared in front of him - light, almost white skin, high cheekbones, narrow chin… and pale blue eyes._

Obi-Wan gasped and fell back into his seat, heart racing. Ahsoka whirled around and was on him a moment later, hands flying over his chest and head in search of the source of his distress. Obi-Wan caught them, stilling her movements. “I’m quite alright. Just a vision.” He soothed the girl. He thought for a moment. “And I think the Council should know about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A family reunion, a father-daughter breakfast, and a mystical vision? Who is that person? Are they friend... or foe?  
> The language Obi-Wan uses is Stewjoni. I used Irish for it, so here we go.  
> Thranslations:  
> A chara amháin - Dear one  
> A chara amháin, conas a bhraitheann tú? Inis dom go hionraic - Dear one, how you feel? Tell me honestly


	8. Eight – The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cody gets some answers, suffers through some extremely awkward conversations, and realizes that cutlery is a rather good weapon to murder someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late for the new year, but better late than never! And yes, this is the chapter where Cody and his gang call the Jedi! Or not..?

“But why can’t we just comm them?”

Cody let out a tired sigh and rubbed his aching temple. He could feel a headache building.

He was in Wolffe’s secret hideout with Boil, Waxer and Threepwood. Earlier, Wolffe had grinned at him deviously and said that he would bring someone else before slipping out of the room. And Cody had to update the others on the situation while waiting for Wolffe to return. Both Waxer and Boil were delighted to see Threepwood, right until he bullied them into a standard checkup. The look of displease on Boil’s face and Waxer’s pout sent Cody into a laughing fit. And Threepwood happily threatened to sedate him if he aggravated his ribs.

Waxer was ecstatic when Cody showed them a working comm. From the initials on its bottom, it became clear that it belonged to an instructor who died in the collapse of the roof in that tower. With some changes they would make it work. That’s where the problems started.

“And tell them what?” Threepwood huffed. He was cleaning some minor cut he found on Boil’s arm so said _vod_ was rather put out. He threw a glance at Waxer. “Something like – _‘Hi, we’re calling you from Kamino. Who are we? Oh, yes, a million or so of unauthorized clone soldiers that one of the Jedi ordered and that you have no idea about. Why are we calling? Well, we wanted to warn you that the Chancellor is a Sith Lord and wants to take over the Galaxy. And by the way, can you swing by and tell the longnecks off?_ ’ How does that sound?”

Waxer frowned. “Well, rather good, but not in such words. Do you want them to think we’re crazy?” Threepwood just shook his head and returned to his task. Waxer huffed and looked at Cody.

He sighed again. “Threepwood is right. We cannot comm in blind. We need more information and a plan. And besides, you never know if the Sith is watching. We can’t talk about something like that over the comm.” Cody pointed out and Waxer deflated a bit. The Commander closed his eyes for a moment. “First, we need to figure out who to call.” He said, giving Waxer a look. “Hence, we have to see which Jedi are on Coruscant right now and which are on a mission. And we need to think through what we are going to say. They might be inclined to believe us if we tell them something only they know, and if we are lucky, someone will remember us.”

“How do you know they don’t already remember?” Boil spoke up emptily. Waxer turned to him with a look of confusion. Boil shook his head. “What if this is exactly the reason why no one showed up? You remembered what, like a week or so ago? Maybe some of them remembered too. They remember us and they remember our betrayal. I don’t know about you but I would not want to help a traitor.” Boil finished miserably, staring down at his clenched fists. He sounded so broken, Cody stood up and walked toward him. He stopped right in front of a defeated Boil and placed his hands on his shoulders.

“We may have betrayed them, but Boil, they’re the Jedi.” He whispered. “They are stupidly forgiving, regardless of who is in front of them. Remember, General Kenobi even tried to talk some sense into _Ventress_. And the Jedi liked us. We were friends. I’m sure General Koon will be on a ship two minutes after he remembers. General Kenobi too. If he remembered, he would have never given up on us.” Boil only shook his head silently, tears flowing down his face. Waxer nodded at Cody gratefully and sat next to Boil, giving him a side hug. Cody shared a grim look with Threepwood.

Although he believed what he said, Boil’s words touched something insecure in his soul, something that whispered to him at night about how he was a traitor, unworthy of a second chance. He shook his head, forcibly removing such thoughts. General Kenobi was the best Jedi in the order. There was nothing in the whole Galaxy that would stop him from aiding those in need. Even if he was stabbed in the back by them. Cody took a deep breath and turned his head to the door, which cracked open. He had to suppress a surprised gasp when he saw who was walking in behind Wolffe.

“Gregor!” Waxer yelled, throwing himself at the clone and sending them both to the floor. Gregor fell down laughing.

 _“Wayii, vod!”_ He returned Waxer’s hug with fervor. “I’ve missed you too.”

Waxer hiccupped into his neck, while Gregor’s curious eyes roamed around the room. He beamed at Threepwood and Boil, but when his gaze stopped on Cody, he just… froze.

“Commander?” He whispered. Cody steeled himself and nodded curtly. He did not know what happened to Gregor in their last life, just that he was declared MIA. Maybe he survived and hated Cody for killing their General? He prepared himself for harsh words and accusations but instead, he heard: “Kriff, you’ve got that thing already? Looks painful.” Cody blinked, baffled. Gregor shoved Waxer off and stood up with Wolffe’s help. In three huge steps he crossed the space between them and embraced Cody firmly, burying his head in his neck. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, _ori’vod_.” He chocked out, squeezing Cody in his arms.

The other two clones behind Wolffe were greeted by Threepwood and Boil. With some difficulty, Cody recognized them as Doom and Comet. He nodded at them and clutched a crying Gregor tightly. “I missed you too.”

Finally, Gregor calmed down a bit and moved to hug Boil. Cody in turn clasped first Doom’s, then Comet’s hand, and could not help a small smile at the sight of another three returned brothers. He ignored the painful thought that no one from 501st was there. “Long time no see, Cody.” Doom smirked, embracing Cody briefly.

Cody snorted. “You don’t know a half of it.”

“I think I do.” Doom bantered back, grinning. He dodged Cody’s hand that was going to slap him over the head and hid behind Comet with a laugh. Cody smiled.

“How did you lot meet up?”

Doom glanced at Comet. “I remembered this morning. Thought I finally went mental. Was late for the first meal. Ran into this one in a hall. He was whirling around wide-eyed. Grabbed me and started speaking in kriffing Kel-Dorian.” Comet swatted Doom and the _vod_ stuck out his tongue at him. “And I had to drag him into the nearest store room, where that one,” he pointed at Gregor, who waved at them cheerfully, while hugging the life out of Threepwood, “was having a panic attack.” Doom shook his head. “And while I was trying to calm them down our beloved one-eyed Commander decided to sneak on me from behind. Almost gave me a frigging heart attack.” He grumbled and the others laughed.

“Now, since we’re all here, let’s think about what we’re going to do with this.” Wolffe spoke up, cutting off their laughter, nodding at the comm which was laying on the small table next to the blankets.

Doom shrugged. “Does anyone have a suggestion?”

Cody shook his head. “We have a rough draft of a plan but nothing specific yet.”

“Catch us up?” Wolffe asked, pushing Comet into the blanket nest.

Cody quickly told them everything they spoke about. “– and we still do not have a frequency.” He finished. Waxer frowned.

“I though you knew General’s personal frequency by heart.” Cody refused to be embarrassed, even with Wolffe smirking at him predatory.

“I did. But it was _General Kenobi’s_ personal frequency.” He stressed. “Not Master Kenobi’s, who loses his comms twice a month.” Cody grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Skywalker tended to lose his lightsaber, and his Master couldn’t live a month without destroying at least one comm. And it always happened completely by accident, as General Kenobi told Skywalker in irritation every time he brought it up.

Wolffe snorted. “So, what do we have to do?”

“First, we must choose a Jedi.” Comet started listing. “Second, think about what exactly we will tell them and how we will present it. Third, we need to learn their comm frequency. Did I miss anything?” He looked around, the others all thinking his words over.

“We’ll need an access to one of the working terminals.” Waxer said slowly. “We can use _JediSpy_ and search the Net for the Temple’s frequency. People from Outer Rim had to contact them somehow, right?” Threepwood nodded in agreement, while Doom, Wolffe and Cody darkened at the mention of the _JediSpy_.

Cody first heard about that site when Skywalker teased General Kenobi about some photo posted there. The General had just chuckled and taunted his former Padawan in return. Then Cody asked about that, General Kenobi explained that it was an anonymous site in which people followed the Jedi lives. And to Cody’s horror, it featured photos of the Jedi in action, when they strolled around the square and even when they returned from missions. The photos were taken on completely different planets and systems, which indicated the global nature of this site. At the time, Cody was only thinking about the security and privacy implications of it. Some people seemed almost obsessed with the Jedi and their lifestyle.

From the brief look through some of the theories on the site, Cody quickly gathered that no one really understood just what exactly Jedi were doing. They just liked their ‘laser swords’ and ‘how they moved’. Cody was disgusted and equally worried. General Kenobi and Skywalker were rather popular on that blog. And there were a couple of incidents when some crazy fan tried to drug a Jedi and kidnap them. So it wasn’t so surprising that most of the troopers hated this site.

But now it could help them. Cody almost snorted at the irony. “Agreed.” He murmured.

“I vote for calling the Council.” Threepwood called. He stared at Comet passive-aggressively for the last ten minutes and the _vod_ finally relented and let the medic check him. “Tell them longnecks told us about them and we wanted to see if their words were true. Add some wide scared eyes, stiff postures and tell them your name is CT-something and they will be here in a blink.” He said with a small wave of his hand.

Cody and Wolffe stared at him. “You do realize that what you’re suggesting is called emotional manipulation, right?” Threepwood dropped his hands down and gave Wolffe a death glare.

“In the last three days alone, I’ve had to treat one hundred and thirty-seven brothers. And this is with limited medical resources. Even during the war things weren’t that bad. I’m ready to strangle one of the longnecks with my bare hands if it gives any result.” He hissed and swallowed thickly, looking away. “I can’t watch them die anymore.” He whispered. Cody noticed that his hands were shaking. “I can’t. _I can’t.”_ Threepwood was trembling. Comet and Wolffe hastily tugged him into the blanket nest, soothing him quietly.

“Right.” Cody nodded curtly. “We’ll do it. As soon as we get the frequency.”

Comet winced. “Is this the right time to mention that I have a datapad with Net access?” He asked with a stifled smile and was subjected to three unimpressed glares. Cody just held out his hand. Comet passed him a small datapad and Cody set to work.

He decided to search the _JediSpy_ first. And the latest posted photos there made him freeze. Boil leaned closer to the screen, making a noise of disbelief. “Is that General Kenobi? Kriff.” He whistled. Cody was inched to agree.

The photo they were looking at was taken on Coruscant’s Market. The General was dressed as usual – white robes and tabard. His hair was much longer than Cody had ever seen – it fell just below his shoulders. He was standing next to a small stand, smiling at its owner. And he was holding someone in his arms but their beige cloak made it impossible to see who. Cody’s mind flickered through the possibilities but he did not really have any way to confirm or deny them. He ignored the painful squeeze of his heart and switched to the next photo.

Distantly, he heard others start questioning Comet.

“Where the hell did you get that thing?”

“Wolffe said we were meeting with the 212th. So I kinda stole it during meal time.”

“ _Vod_ , do you have a death wish? If the longnecks notice you with it, they’ll cull you!”

“They won’t. I took it from Skirata. He won’t tell a thing.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah… he adopted the Nulls after the war. He likes us. Or at least does not see us as flesh droids.”

“He did WHAT?”

Cody snorted and focused on the photo. It showed Master Plo Koon and several Younglings in the Coruscant Museum. The Kel Dor was telling the kids something about gundarks, judging by the model in front of him. Cody showed the photo to Comet and Wolffe, who immediately relaxed after receiving confirmation that their Jedi was fine and out of danger.

Then Cody had to search for a few minutes, but he still found recent photos of Masters Tiplee and Tiplar, or rather Knights Tiplee and Tiplar. The Mikkan Jedi were on a diplomatic mission on the Dressel. When Cody showed the photo of the smiling sisters to Doom, he almost fell to the floor trying to get to Cody as quickly as possible and take a closer look at the photo. Cody patted his back gently as the _vod_ took in his Jedi with desperate eyes.

As far as Cody could remember, Master Tiplar had been killed by one of the clones, Tup. No one knew why then, but now Cody clearly understood that Tup had completed order 66 but much earlier than the rest of them. The question was, what made him do it? After all, Cody had no idea of the existence of this order before the Sith ordered to carry it out and he was the highest-ranking clone in the whole GAR. How could Tup know but not him?

Shaking his head, Cody took the datapad back from Doom and closed the _JediSpy_. He started a cross-search for Jedi Temple’s comm frequency and found seventy-four matches. Twenty-three were just links to articles that mentioned such words, so Cody dismissed them immediately. Fourteen others were fan pages, which Cody also rejected. Thirty-seven to go.

Cody scanned each page carefully, noting the ones where there was really something useful. So, he found the frequency of the Temple’s comm on Tython, on Lothal and a reference to the First Jedi Temple, which he decided to return to later. Finally, on page twenty-four, he found what he was looking for. “Jackpot.” He muttered, grinning like a mad.

“Found it?” Waxer spoke up immediately. Cody nodded, turning the screen with numbers toward him.

“Here. Now, are we going to record a message or call live?” Waxer frowned, looking up at Cody.

“Does it matter?”

Wolffe rolled his eyes. “Of course it does. If we’re recording, we can control how much information we’ll be giving. But if we’re calling live, it might be more efficient…” He tilted his head, humming a bit. “Or lead to a huge clasterfuck.”

“How?” Doom asked, frowning. Wolffe just gave him a flat look.

“Look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you can talk to your Jedi and not cry like a child.” Doom opened his mouth to retort but after a moment just shook his head. Wolffe snorted. “Well, that means a message.” Cody nodded.

“Sure. Who’s going to talk?”

The _vod’e_ looked at each other, uncertain. While they all were eager to talk to the Jedi, the fear of their reaction still held them back. Cody bit the inside of his cheek. He was the Marshall Commander, leader of the 7th Sky Corps. He fought in the war, watched his brothers die and faced freaking Grievous countless times. And all this without a stray fearful thought. So why the mere idea of speaking to his General, even through a recorded message filled him with dread?

Sure, he was also excited. He wanted to meet Knight (according to the _JediSpy_ ) Kenobi and see him becoming the man Cody knew. And yet…

Eventually, when silence stretched for too long, Threepwood huffed tiredly and snapped his med kit shut. “I’ll do it. Just decide what we will tell them and how we will explain our message.” Comet and Waxer breathed twin sighs of relief.

Cody switched the datapad into a text mode. “Alright, _vod’e_ , let’s make a list. What important facts can you recall?”

“The Chancellor is a Sith Lord.” Boil replied immediately.

“Skywalker Fell.” Waxer added.

“We have inhibitor chips designed to control our behavior in our heads.” Gregor said nonchalantly.

Cody startled, almost dropping the datapad. “What?” He croaked, staring at Gregor with wide eyes. Almost every other _vod’e_ had the same expression. With the exception of Wolffe, who slapped his forehead.

“I knew I forgot to tell you something.” He muttered, rubbing his eyes. Heaving a sigh, he faced the shell-shocked _vod’e_. “So, I don’t know the whole story, but ten years after the war ended Rex managed to rescue me and Gregor from the Empire. He told us about those chips.” Wolffe looked down, swallowing hard. “Said they made us obey the Sith. They made us kill the Jedi.”

A heavy silence fell.

Cody felt numb. He finally had an answer. He finally knew why. But it did not bring him relief like he expected. Instead he felt nothing but despair. Were he and his brothers just the executioner’s tools? Just living droids waiting for a command from their master. Jedi used to tell them that they all were special. Individuals. But in reality…

A loud crash started Cody out of his rapidly spiraling thoughts. He looked up, hand automatically flying toward his hip, there his blaster usually was. But it was not a threat. It was Boil.

He threw over a couple of shelves and now was standing in the middle of the room, breathing hard. **“Sa yo salo.”** He growled and whirled around. “Can you get it out?” He asked, staring at Threepwood.

The medic shook his head. “I can’t operate without knowing where exactly it’s placed. And to find it out we’ll need a scanner that I don’t have.” Boil growled and kicked the broken shelve.

Cody stood up, unconsciously squaring his shoulders. Automatically, the others snapped to attention. “I think that’s enough for today. Return to your rooms, think about everything you learned, calm down.” He ordered with a pointed look at Boil. “We’ll be meeting in two days. Same time. The plan is the same – try to find others and don’t get caught.” The _vod’e_ nodded.

Comet and Doom slipped out first. Their barracks were farthest away. Next, Gregor and Threepwood left. Then Boil and Waxer, after a quick hug. Wolffe and Cody gave them a few minutes and quietly started walking toward their own room.

They did not talk, each lost in their own thoughts.

Cody tried to make an outline of a message but his thoughts continued wandering back to the picture from the _JediSpy_.

The last time he saw General Kenobi was on the Death Star, right before Vader killed him. And to see him alive and _so_ young... Cody was conflicted.

He bit his lip.

They would send a message to the Council. But General Kenobi was not in the Council yet, he would not know about it. Did Cody even want him to know?

Sure, General Kenobi was a great Jedi and a good man overall. But this was not General Kenobi. Cody did not know what to expect from him, how to act around him. And most importantly, he had no idea if he could face him and not fall to his knees begging for forgiveness.

This was an unknown territory. Would General Kenobi like them? Or would he pity them, seeing how the fates laughed at their existence? And then what will become of them? If their plan succeeded and they manage to attract the attention of the Jedi so early, it would radically change the course of history. Especially if they tell them about the chips. Cody shuddered.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice when they reached the room. The pair slipped inside and separated, each heading for their own bed. Cody tossed and turned for a long time, and when he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of the war. The most difficult missions, the death of his brothers and Umbara. It seemed to him that he could feel the moment when the Sith’s voice activated the chip in his head. How his ability to reason logically drifted away, leaving behind only a desire to carry out an order.

He woke up with a stifled phrase on his lips. **_‘Good soldiers follow orders.’_**

No wonder he came to breakfast in a foul mood. His squad subconsciously sensed this and tried to stay away from him. All except Wolffe. This _vod_ had no sense of self-preservation at all.

Cody glared at him silently and Wolffe only smirked back at him. Ponds was chatting with Gree, whose arm was now in a proper cast. He smiled at Cody, turning around to poke Fox in the shoulder. Cody forced himself to relax a bit.

He remembered how distraught Gree was when Cody returned to their room after the fight. Neyo, Ponds and Bly were unsuccessfully trying to calm him down but the _vod_ had worked himself up so much he was on a verge of a nervous breakdown.

“This is all my fault! If I was better in combat, he would have never gotten in trouble.” Gree cried, wiping his face with his cast-free arm. That’s what Cody heard when he was pushing the door open that night.

“Hey, hey, you can’t know that! C’mon, you know ‘24, he’s always trying to help everyone. If not you, it would have been someone else.” Bly attempted to soothe Gree.

The _vod_ was having none of it. “But it was me! And now he’s going to get punished because of me!” He froze, eyes going wide. “Kriff, what if they sent him to decommission?” He said, voice getting hysterical. And in that moment Cody stumbled in, Wolffe holding him up and cursing like a spicerunner under his breath.

All heads snapped in their direction. Cody gripped Wolffe’s arm a little tighter and continued toward his bed, silently berating himself. He knew he should not have climbed so many stairs in his condition. Now he was paying for his stubbornness. Threepwood would kill him. Or sedate him, drag into a quiet corner and tie to a bed, all while muttering about idiotic self-sacrificing morons. Cody would not put it past him, it happened before.

“’24?” Gree asked tentatively. Cody grunted and plopped down on the bed with a sigh. Gree immediately rushed to him and gave him an awkward one-armed hug. _“Ni ceta, ni ceta, vod.”_ Cody shook his head sluggishly and patted Gree’s back.

“Not your fault. And I’m fine, don’t worry about it. I just need to sleep it off.” Wolffe snorted somewhere on his right.

“Yeah, sleep it off, sure.” Cody made a rather crude gesture in his direction and fell on his back with a groan, dragging the covers over his head.

“Yes, sleep. And preferably in silence.” He stressed, shutting his eyes. He was in no mood to answer the questions they undoubtfully had.

Thankfully, they left him alone after that.

During classes the instructors were giving him side glances, apparently, the story of his fight with a roller got around. Anywhere he went, the _vod’e_ started whispering. Used to such behavior, Cody mostly ignored them.

But now they were grating on his nerves. And Wolffe did not help either, laughing quietly at his suffering. Cody stared down at his meal and really wished he could use the knife he was given to crack some clankers open. Instead he stubbed whatever it was on his plate and started eating.

Absently, he remembered the snacks General Kenobi used to bring in every time they were on leave. They were never repeated, and in some mysterious way, there was always enough for the whole battalion. When asked about it, he would deny knowing anything, while not so subtly pushing a candy or a bun into the troopers’ hands or pockets. Sometimes, _vod’e_ bartered among each other, or shared so they could taste more new flavors. Cody remembered one time when General Kenobi brought them Sic-Six-layer cakes from Dex’s.

The troopers spent the rest of their leave at the Diner, much to the annoyance of some of the customers, General Kenobi’s silent amusement and Skywalker’s baffled surprise, although he was also rather happy for them. Dex was so pleased that his cooking was liked by ‘the brave defenders of our Republic’ that he lowered the price for them on everything he had, not just cakes. The news spread throughout the GAR like wildfire and in a matter of hours, Dex became incredibly popular among the clones. And when they saw how profitable it was, the owners of cantinas, bars and other eateries began to make similar offers. General Kenobi looked very smug for the entire month.

Cody smiled briefly at the memory.

The day was weird. They ran through several drills, and none of the instructors said anything to Cody about the fact that he was slowing down all the time. None of them reproached him for his clumsiness during hand-to-hand combat (during which Cody also tried to ignore Threepwood’s angry mutterings in his head). It made the Commander tense, thought he tried not to show it.

But then he overheard two instructors talking.

“The kid’s got a beskar spine.” Said one.

“ _Gar serim._ And as stubborn as his template. To train with such injuries? And not a single complaint. The kid is either very stupid or tougher than he looks.” Replied the other.

 _“’Lek.”_ The first agreed. Cody swallowed hard, pushing away his confusion and went to a patrol, as usual. Only this time he was paired up with a _vod_ from another batch. He almost scowled. Was it their way of making sure he won’t keel over and die in some corner? Well, a bit too late for such care.

It did not take him long to recognize Monnk, General Fisto’s Commander. They did not speak much, although Cody noticed the glances Monnk threw at his cut. He sighed inwardly.

“Just ask already, we don’t have the whole night.” Monnk looked a bit ashamed at being caught, but this feeling was quickly overshadowed by curiosity.

“Is it true you destroyed a droideka without weapons?” Cody nodded mutely. He turned around the corner, stepping into another hall. Monnk gasped in awe. “But how?” Cody eyed him for a moment, pondering if he should tell him the truth.

In the end he shrugged. “I don’t know.” He lied. Although, he really wanted to tell the _vod_ all the ways to destroy droids, he knew perfectly well that Monnk would start gossiping. And Cody absolutely did not want to explain how he knew how to destroy a top-class battle droid. “I don’t remember much,” Cody continued, gesturing at his head, “Just thought that if I could break its’ shield, I might have a chance. And I certainly did not expect it to explode!” Now, that was true, the models Cody fought did not blow up when destroyed. It surprised him as much as the others. Not that he was surprised for long – pain took over all his senses.

Cody mostly tuned off the rest of Monnk’s chatter, only occasionally nodding or humming in right places. When came the time for parting, Cody offhandedly advised him to focus on deep-sea training. Just to save him some time.

That night Cody fell asleep quickly, exhausted, annoyed and frustrated by his lack of improvement.

In the morning, when he was dressing for the day (with Wolffe’s help, he really did not want to listen to Threepwood’s rant) a _vod_ came running in.

“CC-2224, the Prime is summoning you.”

Cody froze with one arm up. He slowly put the tunic on and turned to the _vod_. “The Prime?” He asked tonelessly.

The other boy nodded breathlessly. “Yeah, you’re supposed to go to his apartment immediately.”

Cody unconsciously returned the gesture and the _vod_ ran off. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. The clones tried not to meet Cody’s eyes. No one knew what to expect from a face-to-face meeting with the Prime. This had never happened before. Wolffe looked even more sullen than usual.

 _‘Spread the news.’_ Cody signed discreetly to Wolffe. _‘If I don’t get back in time for the meeting – consider me compromised. You will take command.’_ Wolffe looked like he wanted to protest but still nodded reluctantly. He clasped Cody’s shoulder tightly.

 _“K’oyacyi, vod.”_ He murmured and stepped away. Cody nodded at him and walked out of the room.

It took him fifteen minutes to get to the Prime’s apartment – it was practically in the center of the city, in the most protected place. In the halls, he passed longnecks, instructors, and _vod’e_ alike but no one said anything to him. The former only glanced at him with indifferent eyes, the latter, on the contrary, were curious but not so much as to disobey orders and start a conversation with him.

Finally, Cody reached the door he knew very well. Once again, he thanked the orienteering instructor. He made them learn what and where was in Tipoca City, the best places to take cover in and weak points in the city’s defense.

Cody closed his eyes, not even paying attention to the sting from the area around his left eye and took a deep breath. He reached out and knocked.

The door opened, revealing one Jango Fett in free blue tunic and beige trousers. Cody’s face immediately went blank. He saluted. “CC-2224 reporting to duty.”

Fett looked down at him with dark calculating eyes. “Come in.” He ordered curtly, stepping aside. Cody walked in, silently reading himself for a fight he knew he would never win in his current condition.

It was an open, spacious apartment with thin columns dividing the space into zones. To his right, Cody could see shelves built into the wall and the kitchen area. To his left, he could see a table and a small hallway with three doors that probably led to bedrooms and a bathroom. There was nothing superfluous in the apartment, everything was as white and sterile as everywhere else on Kamino. Cody went deeper and noticed a sofa on the left side.

He remained standing in the middle of the corridor, playing the role of a frightened and at the same time admiring child, if not an obedient soldier. He did not think that Fett would believe him to be obedient. Well, at least not like the others. He must have had some reason to call him here and Cody’s little Skywalker style stunt was a perfectly understandable reason.

Fett closed the door without a word and walked over to the couch. He sat up and propped his elbows on his knees, leaning forward, his eyes still on Cody.

“I heard you destroyed a droideka.” He started calmly. Cody kept silence. “An old malfunctioning model but still an admirable deed,” Fett paused, “for someone your age and skill. Tell me, how did you do it?”

Cody mentally ran through all the curses he knew as he tried to figure out why the Force hated him so much. Either Monnk said something he should not have, or those instructors. No matter, Cody still was royally screwed. If Fett suspected something was wrong, he could find the others and then they all would be sent to decommission at best or to reconditioning at worst. Cody had to act as normal as possible in his situation. “According to instructor Davin’s decision, I trained with him personally. Some new moves helped me to avoid blaster fire while I was trying to come up with a plan.” Fett hummed, considering him quietly.

“Did not your instructor tell you how to fight such droids?” Cody shook his head.

“No, sir. He told us about the model and other versions but nothing about how to fight them.” He replied. Fett’s gaze slid over his face, lingering on the still healing cut.

“And how did you come up with idea to pretend dead?” 

That was a tricky question. Cody could say that it was just luck or he was tired and slipped. Or he could say that he observed the instructor and decided to use it. Which one would be better? Or should he combine them?

“Instructor Davin said to study my environment and use it to my advantage.” Cody stated. “I had nothing – no weapons, no shelter. But I noticed that the droideka was damaged and the reactor was sparkling. I assumed that if it was damaged even more, the droideka would turn off. But by then I was tired and slipped, opening myself to the impact. And such a pain was... unusual for me. I was distracted by it and when I came to, the droideka was already near. I lunged forward and bounced off the field, then landed on top of the droideka’s shield.” Cody looked down. “I decided that I had nothing to lose and hit it with all my strength. It exploded.” He fell silent, feigning uncertainty.

Fett tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “Not bad, not bad at all.” He muttered. Then he sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Perhaps not all of you are _di’kut’e_.” Cody forced himself to stay calm, remembering General Kenobi’s voice telling Skywalker not to give into his emotions. Fett glanced back at Cody. “Was it you, who saved the Cobra Squadron?”

Cody nodded, barely managing to hide his surprise at the unexpected question. He didn’t think Fett would care. Or even know about it. Clones were killed left and right and he never said anything. Why did he take interest now? Did he suddenly have a conscience? Or… was it him? Cody?

Meanwhile, Fett seemed to reach some conclusion. “From now on, you’re going to train with me, I’ll show you the ways of _Mando’ade_. You’ll bring _kote_ to your squad.” He declared, clapping Cody’s shoulder firmly. Cody did his best not to laugh in his face. This man wanted to teach him the ways of _Resol’nare_? Cody almost scoffed. He learned more about Mandalorian culture from General Kenobi, who had spent only a year there, than from all _Mando’ade_ on Kamino combined. And he knew perfectly well that Jango was not following the _Resol’nare_ anymore. At least not fully. But still, he nodded curtly.

“Yes, sir.” He confirmed and Fett hummed, pleased.

“You can return to your day. The first training will be tomorrow, after the second meal.” Cody saluted again.

“Sir.” He muttered and unhurriedly left the room.

In the hallway, he glanced at the wall clock. The navigation lecture had already started, there was no point in going to it, so Cody headed for the next lesson. He walked slowly, with half an hour to spare. Involuntarily, he returned to the conversation that had just taken place and snorted. Fine, just perfectly fine. More time with Fett – that was certainly what he needed to be completely happy.

Even though he was lost in thought, Cody heard stealthy footsteps. Deciding to check, he turned into a completely wrong corridor. The footsteps followed him. Cody grinned to himself and abruptly hid into a small hole in the wall on his right, crouching down and waiting. The footsteps stopped. Then there were a few hesitant steps forward and Cody was able see his pursuer.

He sighed silently, tilting his head and watched little Boba Fett look around with a frown. The boy was dressed like other cadets, in long-sleeved blue tunic and matching trousers. The only difference was his long curly hair instead of an army haircut. Cody cleared his throat loudly, making the boy jump and whirl around to face him. “How can I help you?” Cody asked, getting out of his hiding place. He stepped closer to Boba and was a bit startled by a height difference between them. Especially considering that technically, Boba was older than him, being the same age as the Nulls. Cody squashed that thought. Better forget about it. At least for now.

Cody raised an eyebrow at the still silent kid. Boba flashed a bit, then seemed to get angry at himself for that so he glared up at Cody. “Who’we you?” He asked lowly, squaring his shoulders and clearly trying to look like his father. Cody decided to humor him, so he straightened and saluted.

“CC-2224, sir.” He replied, confusing the kid a little. He unsuccessfully tried to hide it and Cody bit back a smile. Boba was a grumpy child, but still adorable.

“Why dad talked to you?” He demanded.

“The Prime wanted to know about my fight. And he decided to train me personally.” Cody explained, inwardly pondering why all of a sudden everyone was so eager to train him and why he just couldn’t help but run into trouble. He blamed Generals Kenobi and Skywalker.

Boba frowned. “Why?” Cody allowed himself to crouch so he was face to face with a kid.

“He thought I’d make a good fighter.” Boba stared at his cut in awe, eyes wide and shiny. He almost reached out to touch but quickly pulled his hand back. Cody pretended that he did not notice anything.

Boba looked down, shifting from one leg to another. “Dad said he’ll teach you how to be Manda.” He spoke slowly and then peeked at Cody tentatively. “Does it mean you’we my _owi’vod_ now?” Cody’s mind halted for a moment. The question sounded wrong from so many angles that Cody didn’t know which one to address first.

So he settled on this answer: “It’s up to your father.” Boba scrunched his nose.

“He teaches me the Cweed and I’m his son. He doesn’t teach anyone else. But he’ll teach you the Cweed. So you must be his son too.” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the Galaxy. Cody felt a little lost.

“It does not work like that.” He spoke gently. Boba’s face fell a little, his shoulders slumped.

“Oh,” He breathed out dejectedly. And suddenly Cody realized something. Why Boba was always in a bad mood, why he looked at everyone from under his brows and hated it when someone took away his father’s attention. He was lonely.

The _vod’e,_ while did not have any possessions, had each other. They were friends, they were brothers, they were soldiers who would serve together and die together. They shared bonds closer than some natborns siblings. But Boba did not have such bonds – he had no one except his father.

He did study with others and chatted with them but they grew up much faster than he did and the longnecks always made sure he did not spend much time with their products. No wonder kid was such a brat.

Cody sighed. He was sure he would regret this decision in the nearest future (‘Probably as soon as Wolffe hears about that,’ he thought) but for now he ignored the possible consequences. He reached out, placing his hands on Boba’s shoulders. “You’re pretty lonely, aren’t you?” He murmured. Boba’s head snapped up, wide brown eyes staring at Cody. He chuckled. “Yeah, I get it. Sometimes I feel lonely too.” He admitted in a whisper. Boba’s eyes went even wider. “And if you ever feel lonely again, you can come find me – I’ll do my best to help.” Boba bit his lip and threw himself on Cody, crying into his shoulder.

Only years of training and experience allowed Cody to stifle a groan of pain as the boy jerked his wounds. Instead, he gently stroked his head, humming a lullaby. “Hush, hush. It’s all right.” He murmured and gently pulled the boy away from him at arm’s length. Boba sniffed and wiped his eyes with his fist. “That’s better. Now run to your father before you’re missed.” Boba gave a curt nod and ran back down the hall. Cody watched him go for a moment, then got up and headed for the nearest restroom. Something had to be done about his wet tunic.

He barely made it to the beginning of the second lesson – strategic planning. As soon as he quietly sat down in his seat, the instructor closed the door and turned on the hologram. Cody glanced around covertly. He noticed Wolffe first, who was looking him up and down, accessing his condition. When he found nothing out of place, some tension eased out of him. Cody rolled his eyes.

 _‘What happened?’_ Wolffe signed when the instructor turned around.

 _‘Long story, will tell you all later.’_ Cody replied. Wolffe nodded and returned his attention to the class.

***

“Sit down here and show me what you’ve done.” With these words Threepwood greeted Cody, expertly maneuvering him onto a medical couch that somehow appeared in the room while Cody was gone and began to pull off Cody’s tunic.

Cody did not bother arguing, just let the medic do what he wanted. It was easier that way. He glanced around the room. He and Wolffe were the last ones to arrive. Boil and Waxer were sprawled out in a blanket nest, Comet and Doom were sitting on some pillows. Gregor stole a blanket from Boil and Waxer and just spread it out on the floor and laid on top of it. Wolffe was leaning against the wall behind Cody, silently observing Threepwood’s work.

“Well,” Comet said, tapping his fingers on the datapad, “Is it true that Fett called you in?” Cody grunted in a mix of affirmation and pain – Threepwood started poking his ribs. “What did he want?”

Cody snorted. “Fett decided to make me a Mandalorian and I think I’m learning a little too fast, since I’ve already managed to adopt a child.” He joked, earning himself several confused stares.

Mentally preparing himself for a lot of questions, Cody recounted the encounter with their template and his son in as much detail as possible.

“You know, you and General Kenobi are so alike.” Gregor voiced absently after Cody finished his tale. Waxer hummed questioningly at him. “Don’t you guys remember how he used to pick up every stray we came across? Even a frigging derto-wolf pup.” Gregor frowned. “I just don’t remember where it went after.”

Comet huffed, waving his hand. “He gave it to us. General Koon was concerned about it, but the shinies made their best puppy-eyes and she stayed.”

Gregor’s eyebrows rose. “She?” Wolffe nodded.

“ _’Lek_. We named her Si Yi. She was a fierce girl, very loyal.” He trailed off, lost in the memory. Cody did not really want to ask what happened to her. Derto-wolves were intelligent, with a life expectancy up to twenty years on average. And by the end of the war she had to be only three or so. Cody sighed.

“Alright, let’s get back to the business.” Doom nodded, picking the datapad from Comet’s hands and switched it on.

“So, we decided what we should tell the Council.” He said and handed the datapad to Cody. He ran his eyes over the lines and nodded approvingly.

“Good. As soon as we were done here,” he said, pointing at Threepwood, who was changing the bandage on his shoulder, “we’ll record the message.” The _vod’e_ all voiced their agreement.

Threepwood took his time. He checked every bruise and little cut meticulously, not forgetting to berate Cody under his breath. Finally, he finished and helped Cody put his tunic back.

Cody wordlessly gave him the datapad. Comet and Doom fiddled with the comm, setting it to the desired mode. Five minutes later, Threepwood gave Cody a curt nod and stood in front of the comm.

The others scattered behind it, not wanting to mess up the record. They had only one chance, since this model sent messages right after they were recorded, without any way to delete them. Comet pressed the button and gave Threepwood a go-ahead. The vod took a deep breath and stared right into the comm’s camera.

“I’m CT-4398 from Pressure Counter Squadron. I’m four years old. I am a clone of a bounty hunter Jango Fett. And I’m not the only one. There are hundreds of thousands of us and we learn to be soldiers from birth.” He glanced away to the side. “The Kaminoans told us that the Jedi can do anything. That we must be the best of the best to serve them and help them in the upcoming war.” He murmured softly, and looked up with tears in his eyes. “And if someone does not meet their ideal standards, then they never return to the barracks.” He was crying silently now, but his voice was even. “I can’t bear to see my brothers die anymore.” Threepwood whispered. Cody was about to cut off the recording, when Threepwood unexpectedly said: “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.”

Comet hit the button and the message was sent. Gregor hurried toward Threepwood and hugged him close.

The room was silent, save for the sound of Threepwood’s sobs. “Where did the last phrase come from? We didn’t write it.” Doom asked quietly. Threepwood jerked one shoulder up.

“I don’t know.” He admitted, shaking his head with a frown. “It just felt right.”

Cody sighed and slumped down on his seat.

They did it. They called for help. Now they had to wait for it to arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes... That's how it turned out. To be honest, originally, neither Fett was supposed to appear in this chapter. But, somehow it all spun, spun and here you are - Fett senior and Fett Junior in all their glory. 
> 
> And yes, I gave the Wolfpack a pet wolf.
> 
> Boba just wants love! And big brothers...
> 
> Translations.  
> Mando'a:  
> Vod - Sibling/Brother/Sister  
> Vod'e - Siblings/Brothers/Sisters  
> Wayii, vod! - Good grief, brother! (General exclamation of surprise, good or bad)  
> Ori'vod - Older Sibling/Brother/Sister  
> Ni ceta, ni ceta, vod - I'm sorry, I'm sorry, brother ((lit: I kneel) grovelling apology - rare)  
> Beskar - Mandalorian iron  
> Gar serim - *Yes, you're right.*/*That's it.*  
> 'Lek - Yeah  
> Di’kut'e - Idiots  
> Mando’ade - Mandalorians (pl) - sons and/ or daughters of Mandalore  
> Kote - Glory  
> Resol’nare - Six Actions, the tenets of Mando life. They consisted of wearing armor, speaking the language, defending oneself and family, raising your children as Mandalorians, contributing to the clan's welfare, and when called upon by the Mand'alor, rallying to their cause
> 
> Ryl:  
> Sa yo salo - These bastards.
> 
> That's all, see you next time!


End file.
